


The First & The Lion

by iidnameht



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Elves, Dom Iron Bull, Dragon Age Headcanons, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Elvhen, Elvhen Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fade Sex, Ferelden, Gen, Headcanon, Implied Lavellan/Solas, Internal Conflict, Jealous Cullen, Journey to Skyhold, Love Triangles, Multi, Orlais, Other, Romance, Skyhold, Solas Angst, Thedas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 47,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iidnameht/pseuds/iidnameht
Summary: Intent: A retelling of DA:I and the Trespasser DLC (eventually). (There *will* be hints at Trespasser spoilers)Dalish mage prodigy Erenne of Clan Lavellan, caught in the cataclysmic Conclave Explosion, must rise to her supposed destiny as the savior of Thedas - she is a force of nature that strikes fear in the hearts of her enemies. It is easy to forget that she is a woman, not a concept - she has needs, desires, dreams, and fears.





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Thanks for reading! (New to AO3) This fic is a slight re-imagining of many of the events of the main game, possibly into Trespassers DLC later on with some other adjustments/add ins overall. I will take some liberties with the canon events (as many do), because I have a headcanon I like to stick to instead. Thank you for your understanding!

**In the Beginning**

 

This was not how things were supposed to be, Erenne realized, as the searing, stinging pain shot through her palm like lightning. She knelt on the grimy cell room floor in chains, her clothes partially soaked in sweat from the fever that wracked her body, made her delirious. Nightmares plagued her mind in the darkness during bouts of unconsciousness.

 

Near double-vision caused all of the flickering torches in the room to halo out, blurring reality as sharp whispers of faded memories crept into her mind. The _shemlen_ were arguing, accusing, and she could say nothing to their inquiries because she remembered nothing. She had gone to attend the Conclave on behalf of her Keeper, Deshanna and Clan Lavellan, for this event would affect all of Thedas and then... nothing but blackness and the pain from the Mark on her hand.

 

Everyone that was at the Conclave was dead except for her. The chilling realization of it all, and the mantle of blame was laid coldly upon her shoulders by the _shems_ named Leliana and Cassandra. The lack of trust was not unfounded, and Erenne's inability to recall what happened certainly did not help. Though, she wasn't fully sure she could trust them, either. Not at first.

 

The next few hours were a blur, and as it turns out she was in fact able to fight despite her condition. She fought off the demons with more ferocity than she realized she’d had. Today, she felt as though the magic she wielded felt stronger. Demons fell before the force of her in a blaze of righteous fire. On more than one occasion, Cassandra stole wary glances in her direction.

 

The rest of Cassandra’s party found, she fought even harder, hoping for a swift end. Erenne advanced fearlessly, summoning a shield of magical energy around herself and the soldiers that surrounded her, bolstering them to fight harder. Her skin glowed with the force of it all to cut down the demons in her path that threatened innocents and soldiers alike. She seemed to end the battle at last, striking the final demon before them with a spear of lightning from the skies above then.

 

She thought it was over, half-turning from the Rift and coming face to face with a tall, elegant looking elf with a shaved head and a serious expression set into his features. Time seemed to slow just when the ‘apostate’...she _hated_ that word... wordlessly grasped at her wrist with a firm hand and thrust her hand forth, toward the Rift. In that moment, it was as though instinct overtook her body to simply _will_ the horrid Rift to close. It stung sharply, but not enough to interrupt the action.

 

She remembered his handsome smirk of satisfaction as he lingered near her, her wrist still in his hand - he smelled of spice and herbs, woodsmoke and moonlit evenings in the woods when all was silent. His eyes were a strange color, almost lavender-tinged grey-blue. They were darker than her own pale blue eyes.

 

When he spoke at last, his familiar accent impressed itself upon her. “If introductions are to be had, then I am Solas. It is a pleasure to see you awake.”

 

An _almost_ humorless laugh barked out into the air. “He means to say that he kept your Mark from killing you while you slept.” The gravel-voiced dwarf mused, hefting his impressive crossbow onto his shoulder.  

 

The revelation made her bow her head to him in respect and greeting. He had tended to her? Saved her? Grateful didn’t begin to describe how she felt. “ _Andaran atish’an_ and _ma seranas_ , Solas. My name is Erenne of clan Lavellan.” Her words were a formal tone. Varric looked curious at the sudden shift in mannerism.

 

Solas raised a brow, almost disapprovingly. “And so you are. It also seems that you, my Lady Lavellan, hold the key to our salvation.”  He released her wrist after _almost_ too long a moment, though she thought little of it. Further introductions were made despite the confusion of battle only just washing away around them. Varric, the handsome dwarf with the crossbow, introduced himself with a wry joviality that Erenne immediately found to be charming. Despite the wave of fatigue that plagued her body and mind, she stood taller now, feeling stronger for the new allies that now surrounded her.

 

She knew the charges against her, and knew what must be done - to stand against this threat, to atone for whatever she may or may not have done, though she still did not remember. She was somehow related to all this, and she intended to find out how and to fix it.

 

It was then that more soldiers rushed through to meet them, a tall, broad-shouldered human with blonde hair was helping a younger looking wounded soldier before handing him off to the medics. Seeker Cassandra made the introductions to Commander Cullen Rutherford, but his gruff manner did not come as a surprise to her. His deep brown eyes seemed to pierce harshly into her own, through to the core of her soul and suddenly she felt as though she needed to hide herself from his gaze.

 

His hair, somehow neat amongst the chaos, had a curled wave to it. His jaw peppered with scruff and the scar on his lip stood out to her immediately. He was beautiful, for a _shem_. Erenne was so distracted by him in that moment  that she almost didn’t hear him making an off-hand comment about how it took a lot to make sure she got up here safely. She felt the weight of those words, and the consequent guilt that came with them as he said them, her eyes widening. Her expression pained.

 

He seemed to catch her expression, giving nothing away beyond his serious expression as he rushed off after his soldiers, cape billowing behind him in the icy mountain wind.

 

Through the remainder of this journey to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Solas remained very close to her, guarding her back and ensuring no demons gave her trouble- while she was an accomplished mage herself, she appreciated his assistance regardless. Surely, he was concerned at preserving the Mark she bore more than anything.

 

Closing the “first” Rift at the Temple after fighting the massive Pride Demon had sent a burning shockwave of searing pain up her arm and through her entire body, then blackness claimed her again... She vaguely remembered blood on the ground--probably her own-- and what felt like lightning in her veins.

 

When she resurfaced to consciousness, Erenne found herself without her clothes covered neatly under a pile of thick blankets. A lone wooden stool was sitting empty at her bedside. A fire crackled in the hearth near her.  As her eyes focused, a gasp sounded from the other side of the room as a young elven servant babbled about Lady Pentaghast wanting to know when she awoke ‘ _at once’._ The poor girl fell all over herself bowing to Erenne and calling her _‘Herald of Andraste’_ before scurrying out the door, leaving her alone.

 

What in the Creators’ names did _that_ mean?

 

The days that followed were overwhelming to say the least, she learned as much as she could about what needed to be done and vowed fervently to help the Inquisition seal the Breach. Clearly, this was a responsibility that could fall to no one else. Erenne absolutely did _not_ condone the title of Herald of Andraste. She was a firm believer in the gods of her people, and the ways of the Dalish, though she was never uncouth to the faithful Andrastians that flocked to her in thanks and reverence. How could she deny them their beliefs in favor of her own?

 

She had many days of travel with Cassandra, Varric, and Solas into the Hinterlands. Despite the pressing need to seal Rifts, Erenne focused on helping the refugees and gathering information on their way to Master Dennet’s farms to petition him for aid. She shared stories with them and got to know the three of them better.

 

One early morning, after clearing an area by a river of rogue Templars, they decided to take a break and loot the Templars’ camp in the name of the Inquisition. The men would stay with the soldiers and would rest the horses while Erenne and Cassandra took a rare opportunity to bathe in the relatively hidden cove near a peaceful waterfall.

 

The Nevarran was surprisingly shy at first, though Erenne could not understand why.  Perhaps she was afraid the men would see? The Seeker eventually lowered her toned and steadfast form into the water, relieved to be hidden from plain sight after they undressed, leaving their clothes on a nearby outcropping of rocks. This was more natural to Erenne than bathing in a tub, clearly Cassandra could not say the same.

 

“Get in the water, Herald… what if _someone sees?_ ” Her tone was a hiss as she tried to scrub the dirt and blood off while remaining under the water as much as possible from the shoulders down.

 

Erenne laughed loudly. “Then, they will see that I am but a woman like any other.”  She grinned at Cassandra. “Why are you so embarrassed?”

 

“It’s improper!”

 

“Surely, a formidable woman - a _powerful Seeker -_ such as yourself isn’t afraid of getting _naked_.”

 

“It’s cold! And we’re in the _middle of nowhere!”_

 

“Hush, I say it’s better for your muscles.” She jumped into the water with abandon, splashing the Navarran, who did not look thrilled when Erenne surfaced.

 

“You are absolutely shameless, Herald.”

 

“Life is too short to hide! You should let loose sometime.”

 

Suddenly, they could hear Varric laughing above them in the camp behind the fence. “I’m not looking or anything, but just know that we _CAN_ all hear you both quite clearly!”

 

The shade of red that Cassandra’s face turned was worth it. Erenne laughed heartily and they finished up their quick bath.

 

Later that night they made camp near Dennet’s farm. In the morning they would approach him and begin the process to petition him to aid the Inquisition.

 

All the while, despite the interest in her that Solas had hinted during their travels, she found herself thinking of the handsome Commander more often than not.

 

He always looked as though he were facing down some vicious enemy. Pensive and perpetually brooding. Those broad shoulders, his chiseled facial features and, yes, she even very much enjoyed listening to him speak in that firm but breathy manner. Before they left for the Hinterlands, she had tried in vain to ask him about himself. It turned out that he wasn’t one for idle chit-chat, despite her attempts to flirt with him.

 

It was cold tonight, and she found herself wanting to feel the Commander’s strong arms wrapped around her body… She suddenly realized she’d been absently staring into her mug in a too-long silence.

 

“You look like you’re in another world, Lavellan.” Varric drawled over the crackle of the campfire as they had their evening meal. He always seemed to be able to obtain ale for them on the road. He scratched at his chest somewhat before sweeping a calloused hand through his hair. He was handsome, too, for a dwarf.

 

Startled, Erenne sat up more and took a long gulp of ale. “I have a lot on my mind.” Her tone was more gruff than she had wanted, more defensive. It was only herself, Varric, and Solas near the fire - Cassandra had long retired to her tent.

 

“Oh, I don’t think you’re thinking about the Inquisition..” His tone was sly. Erenne bristled.

 

“Say what you mean, Varric.” She grumbled.

 

Solas spoke up then. “Varric, I don’t think —“

 

‘You’re into Chuckles here, aren’t you? Two elves, alone on the road…”

 

Erenne and Solas looked at each other in visible shock before collectively glaring at Varric. Was Solas _blushing?? Oh, Creators, he IS._  Erenne cleared her throat, nearly having choked on her drink.  “I have no idea where you’d get such a foolish idea from.” She half-snarled. “We are part of a team here, and we cannot afford such distractions right now.”

 

“Ouch.” Varric replied, ready to back off and sip on his ale again. “Tough luck, Chuckles.”

 

Solas’ shocked expression melted away and became unreadable again. “Thankfully, I’m not exactly heartbroken by it. I share your sentiments Lavellan, we must focus on the task at hand.”

 

“But you _still_ look pretty distracted to me…” Varric murmured. “I’ll figure you out eventually, Lavellan.”

 

Her cheeks darkened. “You try being the so-called Herald of Andraste for a day, tell me you can keep your mind clear in all this insanity.” Her voice wavered then, and Varric’s expression softened somewhat from his sly smirk. He sympathized with her, at least.

 

He nodded in agreement. “I suppose I should cut you some slack… Are we good?”

 

“Yes, we’re good.” She offered him a smile and both men seemed to perk up a bit seeing her do so.


	2. The Lion-Hearted Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen slowly gets to know the Herald of Andraste, a woman from a culture completely foreign to his own. The Commander gets distracted, friendships begin to kindle in Haven. The Inquisition slowly grows.

**The Lion-Hearted Man**

 

The Herald returned to Haven in a flurry of movement and sound. She had a single mount from Dennett so far it seemed, and was working towards striking this deal with him. She was likely going to call a War Table meeting, he assumed, based on her most recent report. 

 

Cullen watched her speed past the throngs of recruits on the road with expert handling of the deep brown stallion she rode, her long silken waves of hair trailing behind her in the wind like a deep black cape.  Her skin,what he could see of it, had a glowing sheen of excitement as she rode ahead of the traveling party she took with her. 

 

The woman was Dalish, and some of her manners were more wild and savage than he’d anticipated. It wasn’t just the way she fought, which made him wonder if he could stop her even  _ with _ his Templar abilities. The slender elf commanded the elements with an effortlessness he had not seen since the Hero of Ferelden’s time at Kinloch Hold over a decade ago. Remembering Neria’s harrowing and the subsequent chain  of events after her departure brought him an ache he usually only felt on days when the Lyrium withdrawal was at its worst.  _ Ugh, don’t think about that now... _

 

Instead, he thought of something almost worse than that - the way Erenne acted among the men of the camp, drinking and causing a ruckus in the tavern on some nights, he had heard, on the nights she spent time in the tavern, the entire place would eventually erupt into song. He’d heard it on more than one occasion, even from his tent. She roamed about barefoot  _ in the snow _ , and wore clothing that did nothing to ward off the winter weather. It amazed him how she hadn’t caught her death traveling in thin material like that. The Commander wondered absently if she used magic to keep herself warm. 

 

Suddenly, he was caught out of his reverie to find her standing before him, asking about a report of his and troop movements and —

 

“Commander, are you listening? Ser Rutherford? Hello??” She waved a hand in front of his face, stepping closer. “Are you well..?” 

 

Her caramel skin caught the green light of the Breach, her lips were so soft and supple and painted a deep red, and her eyes… The tattoo that adorned the left side of her face so delicate and  _ exotic _ , almost… He snapped to attention when she moved closer to him with a worried expression.

 

“Yes, Lady Herald, my apologies.” He managed in a brusque tone. “I can certainly provide a full verbal report on our way to the War Table, if that pleases you.” He motioned toward the gate to the inner sanctum of Haven, and she led the way with little hesitation. 

 

Cullen’s eyes, admittedly, wandered as she walked ahead of him. She was lithe but strong, her form honed from much exercise in her time with the Dalish clan from which she hailed. The way her hips swayed, the gait of her steps, everything about her was almost predatory as if to directly spite her small frame, it was intimidating at times... Everything about her felt contradictory. Small, yet strong. Sharp-Edged like a sword, yet he had seen a maternal softness in her when she had taken the time to greet people and ensure that the refugees and pilgrims were well cared for. She said that she didn't believe in the Maker, but he could see His light in her.

 

Erenne also had  incredibly long wavy black hair that hung past her slender waist, past the soft curve of her rear. She often wore traditional Dalish styles and the...what was it called?...  _ Vallaslin  _ over her left eye and cheek. That aspect of her face he spent time wondering about often, did the tattoo have meaning? He didn’t know enough about the Dalish cultures to truly understand why someone so beautiful would tattoo her face like that…  _ Damn it, focus! _

 

Wait, did she say something to him? 

 

“...So? What do you think?” Erenne had paused at his side, hands on her hips.

 

“I.. ah -“ He stuttered awkwardly, trying to fake it. “That sounds good.” 

 

Her face lit up a child receiving a special gift on her name-day. “Truly?? I shall see you tonight then!” She struggled in vain to hide her giddy grin. What in the world had he just agreed to? “You’ve been to the tavern before, right? I never see you there. We will all be there after dinner.” 

 

_ Shit. _ The tavern. He’d been invited out  _ with her _ to the tavern tonight. She mentioned others, so it wouldn’t just be them, alone. He was somehow both relieved by that, and disappointed.  “No, I haven’t. I tend to avoid it, I’m sure it's the last place the recruits want to see their Commander.”

 

A slight frown crossed her face, and he regretted his words instantly to cause such an expression. “Oh, I hadn’t thought of it that way…” The smile returned again not long after. “Surely they can just deal with it for one night. You deserve to have some fun, too.”

 

The meetings, training, and heated debates with the other advisors did  _ not  _ help his mood. Once dinner started, he went from being in a foul mood to being a nervous wreck. Surely, they wouldn’t be alone together, right? He wasn’t some chantry boy virgin, but he also hadn’t been close to a woman in,  _ Maker’s Breath _ , he could not honestly remember how long. 

 

Despite himself, he felt the sting of disappointment to find Varric, Erenne, and Cassandra seated at the bar. Solas was nowhere to be seen and  _ that _ made him feel better, more confident. He could see the way Solas looked at the Herald, and somewhere inside he felt the roots of envy clutch at his guts, poised to eat him alive from within the very pit of his soul. 

 

Cassandra raised a brow at him - seemingly both surprised to see him there and also faintly amused at the fact that he was very stiffly stalking his way into the room. Some of the boisterous laughter of the soldiers died back when they saw him.  _ Maker preserve me, this feels like a bad idea. _

 

Erenne grinned widely at him, jumping up from her seat to clap him on the shoulder heartily. The touch surprised him, but then he realized she'd already been fairly decent in her drink. “Commander! I am so pleased you could make it. See - guys -  _ I told you  _ I could get him to join us one time!” The elf raised her large mug to him before taking a quick swig and ordering him a drink. 

 

As if it were possible, he felt himself become even more tense. “I - you didn’t have to…” 

 

She waved off his protest. “Nonsense, Commander, I promised you earlier that I’d buy you a round, did I not? This is your reward for being  _ social _ . It is something we all should do once in a while at least.” 

 

“As you wish, Lady Herald…” 

 

Varric, of course, complained that he was not also getting a free drink from the lovely Herald, which was swiftly met with a glare from Cassandra. Even  _ he  _ could see the chemistry between the Dwarf and the Seeker, and he usually tried to avoid thinking of such things. 

 

They were all convinced to play some sort of Dwarven dice game Varric insisted would be all the rage, along with everyone telling jovial jokes and regaling one another with scandalous stories of their experiences. He learned things about everyone, including Erenne, that he didn’t know before. 

 

The night waned deep into the wee hours, and he found himself walking with Erenne alone towards the main gates, where he knew they would part ways for the night. 

 

“Hey,” She said softly, causing him to pause mid-turn from her in his quest to seek his tent.  _ That voice _ , he felt bewitched in an instant, she could have asked him for anything in that moment and he would have been too weak to refuse. He turned to face her again, and she smiled a bit, clearly intoxicated from their collective night of merrymaking. “I’m really glad you came out… I was starting to worry you might dislike me, Commander.”

 

That damn near shocked him sober.  “Whatever gave you that impression?” Had he been so callous with her to make her think this?  _ Maker’s breath, how did I fuck this up? _

 

“Cullen, you always seem so angry and since we first met, I… I always had this feeling that you aren’t exactly thrilled that I’m here.” She shifted, her expression pained. He tried to not blush directly at the fact that she’d used his name instead of his rank. First name basis suddenly? He never had the gall to call her Erenne. It seemed wrong, she was the Herald of Andraste.  “I hope to change that, I hope we can  _ at least _ be friends.” 

 

_ At least…  _ He could feel the surprise melt away from the heat he was  _ sure  _ reddened his cheeks just then. Thank the Maker for the silvery moonlight. “I.. Must apologize if I made you feel that way, Lady Herald. It was not my intention to give that impression at all.”

 

She seemed to visibly relax at that, though he couldn’t imagine that it was all relief from this clarification. “That is...good to know. Thank you.” Erenne hesitated, as if wanting to say something else, then changed her mind. He was tempted to ask her what was on her mind when she spoke again,  “Well, goodnight Commander. May your sleep be peaceful.” She gave him a little wave and a slight bow before turning away to walk towards her cabin. He stood there in the cold wind, dim lantern light and the moon the only things illuminating his sight as watched her to ensure she made it to her door without incident. He desperately hoped she wouldn’t notice him lingering, and she did not. 

 

In the days that followed until her next departure, he found himself  _ noticing  _ her presence around camp more and more. Soon, he found himself daydreaming of her, and when she’d return to camp she’d continue to ask about his thoughts on the Inquisition, and endless questions about Templar life. He struggled to not cut off that topic, knowing now that her curiosity was pure and without ulterior motive. 

 

Weeks passed and the Inquisition’s influence spread like wildfire actually Thedas. Their cause grew- seeing the arrival of The Iron Bull, Madame De Fer, Warden Blackwall, Sera, and the Tevinter Mage, Dorian Pavus.  Erenne seemed to attract new followers to the Inquisition’s cause wherever she went and she readily allied herself with anyone willing to give to their cause, within reason.

 

And with it all, the object of his slowly growing affection became more and more withdrawn from the people around her. She no longer pestered him to go to the tavern because she wasn’t going either. He could almost see the weight on her shoulders some days. They had the mages on their side now, and soon they would be ready to close the Breach.

 

Cullen longed to ease her burden, but propriety kept him firmly in the check, even when he saw how their friends treated her with such familiarity despite her title and role within the Inquisition. He and the advisors had been discussing naming her as the Inquisitor after they closed the Breach to officially continue their work with Erenne as their leader.  

 

It wasn’t until they locked eyes when she made the decision to stay behind to save Haven and face the Red Templars and their leader head on--even if it meant her own death to save everyone there-- that he realized how his feelings had deepened during their time together.  He was far beyond the point of return, but he had to let her go. It was agonizing, but  _ duty _ bound them both like an unbreakable chain. He was bound to follow her orders, as she was bound to stand and fight.

 

After the avalanche that wiped out Haven, everyone thought Erenne was surely dead but he would  _ not _ give up on her. They had begun mourning, but he refused to allow it. Cullen rallied what troops could still stand to try to find some trace of her in the aftermath of the avalanche and the snowstorm that began afterwards as if on cue. If the recruits thought him harsh before, they had not seen him  _ desperate _ yet. Not like tonight. 

 

He, Cassandra, and some of the scouts searched for her for hours, and when they found her, he immediately shrugged off his cloak, wrapping her up in it and his arms, not letting anyone else touch her. She was barely breathing, creating a sense of urgency within him he had not felt since Kirkwall… 

 

When one of the soldiers offered to help with carrying her he shouted at him. “ _ No, you will run ahead and prepare the healers for our arrival. NOW _ !!”, causing the soldier to flinch visibly. He didn’t see it, but he could  _ feel _ Cassandra staring at him - perhaps her Seeker abilities could sense just how badly he craved Lyrium in that moment. Desperate, almost out of control, he clung to the Herald. He felt powerless except in his ability to hold the Herald of Andraste closer and bring her to safety. If it was the last thing he ever did, it would be enough to ensure that she lived. His duty was all he had left that night.

 

She was nearly blue in the face from the cold- Maker only knows how she even survived all that, but he cradled her slender body closely as they went back to camp. Erenne’s eyes lulled closed and occasionally opened to stare deliriously up at him, unseeing. He placed a soft, chaste kiss on her forehead, guiltily knowing she wouldn’t remember. Her skin was so soft, but so cold… And he was absolutely terrified for her.


	3. Close To The Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events at Haven, Solas has some bad news. Erenne is further drawn to the Commander, but uncertainty is a plague upon fears unspoken.

**Close to the Dawn**

 

The sound of arguing jolted Erenne awake. Her advisors were outright  _ shouting _ at one another and had been for hours. At each break in her delirious slumber she remembered the shouting. Most of all, of Cullen's urgent voice. She spoke briefly with Mother Giselle before forcing herself to rise from the makeshift cot she’d been fitfully passed out on against the revered Mother's quiet protest.

 

The Herald stepped toward their makeshift War Table and into the glow of their lanterns. She didn’t feel like the Herald of anything at all in that moment. She felt defeated, lost, and most of all...alone. Alone despite everything else. Alone, and… 

 

_ “Shadows Fall, and Hope Has Fled… Steel your Heart, the Dawn Will Come…”  _

 

Mother Giselle began singing, and soon the entirety of what was left of Haven joined in, Cullen included, his voice ringing out amongst the faithful. His voice was so beautiful to her and mesmerizing, but before long the song was over. Solas appeared at her side and insisted upon pulling her away from the camp. She spared the Commander a final glance before leaving with the other elf. If he noticed them leave, she didn't see.

 

“ _ Lethallan _ , I have some bad news.” He offered his arm to her in familiarity, and she took it as they walked to the veilfire brazier before them. With a smooth wave of his hand, he lit the veilfire and they were lit by the ghoulish blue light of it.  The swagger of his steps were contagious, making Erenne feel more confident in her own steps as he moved with her.

 

“Well, what is it?” She found herself leaning into him comfortably, her head against his arm. Erenne felt so tired, her voice was unsteady and he was surprisingly warm. The two of them had grown closer throughout this process, more comfortable. Being the only other elf in her Inner Circle for most of their journey so far, their friendship had deepened significantly. She found much refuge in his presence and treated him as a trusted confidant. There were moments where she realized he might wish to deepen their relationship, but neither of them seemed to have anything else to say about it - at least not in that moment. 

 

He told her about the Orb, how it was an ancient Elven artifact, and how they might have some damage control to do if anyone else found out about it. Erenne didn’t feel terribly concerned in the immediate moment, or perhaps she was too tired to fully _ feel _ the weight of his words.  He was right, though. This could ruin the humans’ faith in their people. They planned quietly, debating on whether or not to tell the advisors. They couldn’t come to a resolution, at least not yet. He suggested they ‘sleep on it’ and revisit again in the morning, to which she agreed easily.

 

Some of the camp’s chatter seemed to linger closer to them and as if remembering himself, Solas stepped away from her. Did he not want others to see them acting so familiarly with one another? 

 

Funny, considering it was common knowledge that he had taken care of her whenever she’d been ill or injured in the beginning of all this, and was the only person she trusted to cut her hair--which now hung about her shoulders--a month earlier. They spent much time together, studying the Fade and practicing magic techniques - it was no secret. She did not hide their relationship, in fact she was proud to be his friend, to be worthy of his friendship when she knew full well how particular he was about who he openly called 'friend’. 

 

“Erenne, before you go back…”  He sounded hesitant. He was the only one who regularly used her first name, other than Josephine.

 

“What is it?” She tilted her head questioningly. 

 

“Are you alright?” He reached out slowly, taking the Marked hand, and examining the mark. “It seems more stable for now.” 

 

“It still feels different, too, since I spoke to Corypheus… but I will get used to it.”  She glanced over his shoulder to see Cullen standing at the edge of camp, clearly and obviously seeing Solas holding her hand close to his face. Quickly, she withdrew her hand politely. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright.” 

 

He looked almost guilty when he noticed Cullen as well. “My apologies,  _ Lethallan _ … I didn’t mean to be so forward. We can discuss our plans in the morning.”  He took his leave, walking away from where Cullen stood to leave the two of them alone on the outskirts of the camp.

 

Suddenly feeling even more tired, she willed the Veilfire to fade away with the wave of delicate hand, the bluish light dissipating and leaving her skin kissed by silver moonlight instead. As if the Commander held a string tied ‘round her waist, she could almost feel Cullen’s gaze tug her closer, beckoning her forward to him. She approached him slowly, the icy cold wind waking her up somewhat in the absence of Solas’ warmth near her.  His scent lingered on her clothes, she realized. How must that look to the Commander?

 

He had a ghost of a smile at his scarred lips, though his expression was fading into something unreadable. They stood in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke in a slightly incredulous, but joking tone.  “Maker’s Breath, how are you not  _ cold _ ?!” His hands twitched at his hands as if  he’d been thinking about reaching out to her. She realized this was likely wishful thinking on her part.

 

“It’s not that bad…” She said quietly. “I am used to it by now.”  

 

“May I… Walk you to your tent? I understand Solas has a busy day planned for us all tomorrow and I wanted to speak with you.”  The way he said Solas’ name sounded a bit..off. She had to push down the feeling his tone invoked, and agreed to let him walk her to the tent.  Something in his face made her realize he might have finally been picking up on her feeble attempts to flirt with him. He was tense, and despite him saying he wished to speak with her, they ended up saying very little other than to ask after how she was feeling and then tersely bidding her goodnight. Something in his expression worried her.

 

On the journey to Skyhold, Erenne hardly saw Cullen. And when she did he was terse with  _ everyone _ , not just herself. What plagued him so, she wondered? It wasn’t until about a week into their time there, when the sword of the Inquisitor was presented to her by the advisors that she saw him again. She vowed to the crowd of the soldiers, scouts and the faithful in a loud declaration that she was an Elf standing for Thedas, and that the Inquisition would be for all. Shortly after, she found the Commander barking orders at quivering soldiers. Despite the excitement of finding Skyhold that everyone was feeling, he seemed to be in a foul mood, his stance visibly tense.

 

She stepped up to him mid-bark at one of the soldiers, he needed some kind of report ‘now’, and sending men to scout the areas around Skyhold to ensure the utmost security. “Hello, Commander…” 

 

Erenne had stared down Corypheus, his dragon, and countless demons. Nothing sent a shiver down her spine like the look in the Commander’s eyes as he  _ wheeled _ on her at the sound of her voice.  “ _ What is it?”  _ She realized, then, she must have looked as startled as she felt because his angry expression melted away immediately into what she could only describe as mortification. “Oh… Maker’s breath… Inquisitor, please accept my apologies.” He visibly relaxed and took a hesitant step back, gloved hand scrubbing over his handsome face and over his dark stubble. “I did not mean to startle you, or speak to you in such a manner...”  He shifted, that hand now rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Nothing could have prepared us for what happened at Haven.” His voice lowered, the tone of it grave.

 

“I know. It’s been hard on everyone.” Her tone softened, too.

 

He explained his plans, the course of action he was taking to get everything underway. They spoke of those lost at Haven,  the morale improvements since she accepted her role as Inquisitor, and then an awkward silence fell over them both. She had to say something, she had to tell him… 

 

The Inquisitor shifted her weight where she stood. “I… I wanted to talk to you, if you had a moment?”

 

“Of course, whatever you desire Inquisitor.” 

 

Her heart skipped a beat.  _ Don’t say that. _ “We didn’t get the chance to talk much since what happened at Haven… And I--I just really wanted to let you know I’m glad that most everyone made it out of... I’m glad that  _ you _ made it, Cullen.” 

 

His expression softened visibly. “As am I.”  They got quiet again, and when she turned to leave he reached out to stop her, taking her hand in a firm but gentle grip. His eyes made her fear he could see through to her soul again, all her good deeds and bad, every mistake, every lover, every lonely night in her quarters she spent wondering if he could ever feel the same. He cursed under his breath softly.  “You… When you stayed behind, I… You could have  _ died _ , Inquisitor. You were  _ ready _ to sacrifice yourself for Haven…  I swear to you that what happened there will not happen again. I will never put you in that position again.”

 

His touch sent shockwaves through her, the feeling settling in her lower stomach; the anticipation of attraction, dreamlike visions of him pulling her close in the wee hours of the morning to make sweet love to her crossed her mind as if conjured merely by his proximity to her. She shivered visibly, though he did not seem to notice. For a tense, breathless moment they stood together, closer than she could ever remember them being. He smelled like the soap they gave to soldiers in the barracks, a clean scent. She felt her cheeks heat when she realized he, too, began to get a bit pink in the face.

 

As if suddenly remembering himself, he released her hand and muttered a half-hearted apology while stepping back from her. Did he care because she was the Inquisitor and they needed a leader, or was it because he cared about  _ her? _

 

“Cullen…” 

 

The look on his face was torn, his expression fully clear to her in that moment- unlike his usual serious expression. “I know you have work to do. I will be here, should you require anything...Inquisitor.” The dismissiveness in his tone burned in her chest, and she made her leave.


	4. The Quiet Confessions of an Ex-Templar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen has to come clean to the Inquisitor about something and learns that jealousy is a bitter companion. Realizations take hold. The boys have a good time at Herald's Rest, discussing the finer features of their fearless leader.
> 
> ***Possible Trigger Warning: Some discussion about Drug addiction. ***

**The Quiet Confessions of an Ex-Templar**

  
  


The way he’d ended their last conversation was not how he’d have liked things to go, but he had panicked in the moment.  Cullen cursed himself silently when she walked away from him, realizing just how cold he’d been. Her retreating form found its way to Herald’s Rest. It wasn’t her fault, he knew, but he couldn’t help but push her away. He knew she didn’t want him, not so damaged as he was.

 

The withdrawal from the Lyrium had been particularly bad that day, and each day since.  She showed up not long after to visit him on an even worse day as he was leaning over his desk, staring at the Lyrium drought kit he kept in his office. He felt his lips twist into a scowl as he brusquely shut the lid of the kit and pushed it aside. 

 

He could feel the sheen of sweat on his brow with the struggle of that motion alone. How could he ever show her how he felt, how could she ever want him— a lyrium addict? An ex-Templar? A broken man with a broken past? He’d made so many mistakes, but his decision to leave that life behind for the betterment of Thedas was  _ not  _ one of them. He could not allow it. Would not.  

 

Today, she wore a different outfit, he realized. Something more formal - a high-collared Dalish light armor that hugged her curves rather nicely. Her hair hung free about her shoulders. He liked it shorter, too, though he did not like that she went to Solas for such things. Their closeness unsettled him. Was the apostate wooing the Inquisitor? Did he treat her with the tenderness Cullen knew she deserved? 

 

He knew the jealousy he felt was unfounded. He could  _ never  _ claim to own her or treat her like a prize to be won. She was a woman, not a trophy, and deserved more respect than such a presumptuous notion like that. He hated himself for his burning jealousy. Occasionally when he imagined her in the night he couldn’t help but imagine her leaving his side to be with the apostate, in his arms, in his bed... Seeing them outside of camp the night after Haven’s destruction had filled him with a silent and dark envious rage that he wished he could have willed away. He didn't have the right, so he had avoided her until he could calm back down.

 

He almost didn’t hear her pad her way into his office, save for the breeze caused by the door opening. Erenne’s eyes searched his face, and the concerned expression that formed her features then made him realize he needed to tell her about the Lyrium. He owed her that,  _ at least _ .

 

“Inquisitor… I have something I must tell you.” He decided to speak before she could, and he nearly cringed at the way his voice audibly broke with the words. “Do you remember what I told you about being a Templar, about needing Lyrium to enable our abilities?”  When she nodded, he continued. “We now have a steady supply of Lyrium for the Templars here, but I... no longer take it.” 

 

Her eyebrows raised, she looked alarmed. “What does that mean? Could this…” She nervously clutched at a necklace around her neck. “Could this  _ kill _ you?” Erenne sounded far more afraid than he could have ever imagined.

 

He hoped to quell her fear. “So far, no. I stopped taking Lyrium as soon as I committed to joining the Inquisition, before I ever met you.” He sighed. “I told you that I left the Order, I am no longer living that life and I no longer wish to be bound by the Lyrium leash. But I… I cannot allow this to interfere with my duties. I have left it to Cassandra, as a Seeker, to keep an eye on me. She will ensure that a suitable replacement is found if this becomes a problem.”

 

She shifted, and knowing that he was worrying her caused a pang in his chest that made him wish suddenly that he had not told her, to save that beautiful visage from ever having to worry more than she already did about everything else.  “This is very brave of you, Commander…” She said softly. “I must say that I respect your decision and I trust you to do what is right. For yourself first. And  _ then _ for the Inquisition.” 

 

He couldn’t help himself, he smiled slightly at her. Erenne lit up even his darkest days, and she didn't even know it. “Thank you, Inquisitor.” 

 

She quickly changed the subject, clearly recognizing that this topic was hard for him and he was so grateful for her tact when it came to this. It turned out that despite being a mage, Erenne had proven to be incredibly military-minded under the tutelage of himself and the other advisors, and spoke to him about tactics and troop movements often. She wanted to learn what he knew and respected his council. Otherwise, the Inquisitor let Leliana and Josephine work to their own devices. Like him, she openly detested diplomacy and was a much more direct leader than hands-off. 

 

On more than one occasion, he would catch her in the training ring with soldiers and, more often, The Iron Bull. Erenne often complained that she wasn’t “fit” enough and that she should know how to use a sword if magic ever was not an option. There was something there between them too - lots of flirting- but Bull was like that with  _ everyone _ . He treated her like a precious charge that needed protecting whenever he was near her. Bull often referred to himself as her bodyguard. The idea of her in the Qunari's bed suddenly filled Cullen's mind - would Erenne be interested in a man like that?  He shook his head suddenly and hoped the thoughts would go with it. He was getting off track again. 

 

This motion seemed to catch his Lady Inquisitor off guard. “What is it? Are you in any pain? Are you alright?”  She tentatively reached out to him, but mid-reach she stopped herself. That was more disappointing than he’d thought it would be.

 

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s just… distracting sometimes. That’s why I have been  concerned about how this might interfere with my duties.” 

 

“Ah, I see…” She shifted again, clearly something else was plaguing her.

 

He took a chance. “Something on your mind, Inquisitor?”

 

The look on her face was almost bashful. “Did you have anyone...special… before coming here? I mean - did you leave anyone behind?” 

 

He was so caught off-guard, he almost couldn’t speak. Words caught in his chest before he could steady himself and reply. “No, I did not. I...was in a bad place in Kirkwall, and no one there caught my eye regardless.” 

 

Was that relief on her face? Erenne smiled at him sweetly. “In that case...Good to know.” 

 

She’d left him then, gaping in shock at her retreating form towards where he knew she’d be going to check on Solas.  _ Good to know? _

 

A few more days passed before she caught him playing chess with Dorian, and he nearly jumped out of his skin at being caught slacking... She of course  _ immediately _ challenged him and they played for quite a long time, speaking of everything that wasn’t the Inquisition or their duties. It was a wonderful time and he had found himself telling her all about his family and how he became interested in playing chess as a boy. She regaled him with stories of life as the First of her clan. He’d learned of the things she enjoyed as a child, and a bit of her past, too, including the more grim topic of how her parents had been killed by bandits, and that the only family she knew was her Clan.  In the end, she bested him at his own game and insisted they spend more time together moving forward - though he didn't need much convincing.

 

He was already deeply, hopelessly in love with her. 

 

Dreams in the night, thoughts, daydreams filled themselves with images of her. They’d begun to replace his ceaseless nightmares on some nights, granting him temporary reprieve from his nightly torture. The desire he felt for her was immense, and the worst part was that he had begun to realize he wasn’t the only one interested in the Inquisitor. 

 

Admitting his feelings to himself was difficult, finding so many reasons why she wouldn’t want him or why this relationship wouldn't work. Would it be better to watch her go to another’s arms if he didn’t at least try? Would letting her go become the greatest regret of his life? The thought of seeing her with another man was not pleasant, though it did not make him angry as seeing her with Solas had. It would become yet another reason to isolate himself - the first woman in a decade to make him really  _ feel _ anything slipping through his fingers like her silken black locks of hair that night after Haven when he held her for the first and only time. 

 

Solas, of course, had immediately barged between them that night to tend to her and to check the Mark. Cullen had also begun to hear rumors, the sort  that implied Erenne might be sweet on someone. Even Cassandra had commented that the Inquisitor at times seemed rather distracted and he had even caught her daydreaming from time to time during meetings at the War Table. The idea of her pining for someone made him endlessly curious, and somehow even more stressed than he already was. Who could it be? Surely, she'd had lovers in the past, and that didn't matter to him, so why did this? 

 

He was staring down at his half-eaten dinner while sitting in a darker corner of Herald’s Rest. The tavern was anything  _ but  _ restful with all of the ruckus and merrymaking around him. Suddenly, he became all too aware of a conversation near him.

 

“I’m telling you, she’s got her lingerie all in a tizzy for  _ someone _ . I wonder if it’s me..” Bull gruffed. “The Boss is… exquisite. I mean, have you  _ seen _ that ass?” 

 

Varric barked a laugh. “Have I! You should have been there when we went skinny dipping in the Hinterlands! Well,  _ Erenne _ did. The rest of us didn’t DARE to join her... Not at first, but then she threatened to use magic to drag the lot of us into the lake with  _ or  _ without clothes.”  They erupted into laughter along with the Chargers, who were sitting nearby.

 

“You’ve got to be  _ fucking _ kidding me, how did I miss this?! What a load of crap.” Bull growled. “Who else was there? I want details!” 

 

“Me, of course… and Blackwall… And Chuckles was there, too, though we all kept our shorts on. I didn’t really want to, but how do you say no to her? It was dark too, so you couldn’t see  _ much _ detail,  but I certainly  _ saw it all _ .” He whistled at the memory. “I’d never cross the line with her, but  _ Andraste’s ass _ she is a beautiful woman.” He shook his head, downing his ale.

 

“Okay,  _ now _ I hate you.” Bull grumbled before taking a long swig of some disgusting Qunari drink, Cullen remembered him calling it  _ Maraas-Lok. _ Whatever that means.

 

“Ask her to take you swimming. She’ll know what you mean.” Varric waggled his eyebrows at the Qunari. 

 

He barked a hearty laugh. “Ugh, don’t tempt me. She’d probably turn me down or Solas would try to kill me first. He’s got it bad for our fearless leader.”

 

“You know I caught Chuckles sneaking her a box of petit fours back from her favorite bakery in Val Royeaux? He wants it  _ bad _ .”  The men chuckled. Cullen had to hold back a snarl of jealousy, though all the while he knew he had no right. That made it worse. “Though somehow I don't think Solas is the one she's been mooning over.”

 

“Oh, I’ll give her much more than little cakes… I should have her visit me sometime, let her work out those frustrations she's got. Time in the training ring isn't enough. Heh.” 

 

Cullen’s face grew bright red just overhearing the conversation as he tried to eat what was left of his dinner in vain.  How could she be so reckless? The rumors alone could undo her reputation - it could cause problems for the Ambassador. He knew she was adventurous, but the idea of news about the Inquisitor swimming  _ naked _ with a group of men was scandalous, even to him. Even if he would have liked to see it.

 

To be fair, this sounded like it wasn't recent, and he had only just heard of it now. He tried to calm his flustered feelings.

 

“Hey, Curly! Over here! Come sit with us!” Varric had spotted him and was waving him over.  _ Shit.  _

 

At this point, it seemed he had no choice. He picked up what was left of his dinner—a thick and flaky roll, as well as the drink he’d been nursing to join the Qunari’s mercenaries and the meddling Dwarf.

 

“Well, well,  _ wel _ l.” Bull clucked his tongue. “I’d be interested to hear  _ your  _ thoughts on the Boss’....assets.” He grinned wickedly. 

 

Krem piped up at that point. “Calm down, Chief, you might just wet yourself over Her Ladyship.” His comment was met with boisterous laughter from the Bull’s Chargers.

 

“Yeah, Curly, what do you think? Or do you only have eyes for your work?” Varric leaned against the bar as he looked the Commander over.

 

“Think about who? The Inquisitor?” He tried, in vain, to play dumb. He was nearly too intoxicated for this conversation. 

 

“ _ Lavellan _ , yes.” Varric replied impatiently. 

 

He hesitated. “I—I don’t, really...” It was a bald-faced lie,  _ Andraste preserve me _ .

 

They collectively stared at him, unconvinced. “Commander, I know a liar when I see one. try again.” Bull said sharply. 

 

“What is this, an interrogation?” He found himself saying defensively. 

 

“Curly, if you aren’t completely blind you’d have to see that there’s no mortal man alive that wouldn’t bed her given the first chance.” Varric’s tone lowered somewhat. “She is in a league of her own.”

 

“She...is.” He said at last, feeling the pressure. “Quite, ah...attractive.” He looked down at his mug of ale, embarrassed.

 

Bull chortled. “Close enough to an admission as we’ll get, I think. How boring.” He took a long sip of his drink then poured himself another. “If she were to choose me, I’d give her  _ exactly _ what she wants, and  _ as hard  _ as she wants it.” 

 

“You think she likes it rough?” Varric snorted, then took a shot of something dark. 

 

“Have you  _ seen _ how she dominates our enemies on the battlefield? Stares down demons without flinching? She’s fierce, she even surprises  _ me _ sometimes... And I am willing to bet that she’s the same in bed.” 

 

“Ooh, now you’re just giving me fodder for my next book.” He snickered. 

 

Cullen felt his face get hot. “Maker’s Breath, do you honestly think so?” And suddenly all eyes were turned on him again. 

 

“Sooo! You  _ ARE _ interested...”   Varric quipped, a wicked grin on his face. Cullen realized then that he’d been very easily baited into that. 

 

The ex-Templar’s face grew hotter. “N-No, I… I just can’t exactly picture…It just seems...Unlikely?” he swallowed. It seemed to get much warmer in the tavern then. He pictured her in a slightly more delicate light, but he’d NEVER admit that. 

 

“The Inquisitor retired to her rooms a while ago Curly, you can speak freely.” 

 

“I’d really rather not.” He finished his drink and grabbed the roll that he’d nearly forgotten to eat. “She is beautiful, yes, and it’s clear that any man with half a brain would think so, but that doesn’t mean it’s something to speak about so openly. I respect her more than that. She deserves better than that.” 

 

“Aw, Cullen, we’re just having a bit of fun…And you should hear how  _ she _ talks about sex. If you ever came here with us, you’d know that. Our lady Inquisitor obviously has some experience.” The Iron Bull waved a dismissive hand. “I guarantee she’s wild in bed. It’s my job to know how to read people, remember?” 

 

And, oh, _ did they ever _ fill him in on the details she'd told them on wild drunken nights. She supposedly proclaimed herself to see sex the way The Iron Bull did, not sacred, not binding, but a necessity.

 

Everything they said had plagued him until he found himself alone with his burning desire and a whole slew of new images in his mind to keep him company. 


	5. When Frustrations Rise Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas has a lapse of judgement. Erenne's personal frustrations have become a strain, making her restless.

**When Frustrations Rise Up**

 

“Did you sleep well, Inquisitor?” Solas’ tone was playful. She was hungover. Not funny. He’d visited her in dreams that night, taken her back to Haven just as it had been before. They talked about how he’d found his way to her and the situation he’d found himself in with the Inquisition. Solas confessed he found her to be extraordinary, marveling at how she’d supposedly proved him wrong or surprised him all the time. It was unlike anything anyone had ever said to her before, so honest and pure. Erenne felt closer to him still, until he kissed her of course. His lips were but a ghostly touch on hers, and despite the chemistry between them, it felt wrong to her.

 

“That was… I had never known a dream like that before.” 

 

“Ah, well, your Mark allows such focus - it was more a test than anything else.” He smiled faintly, though he almost always looked sorrowful when he smiled at her. “I.. wanted to apologize for my lapse as well. I got...carried away, and I hope I did not upset you.” 

 

Erenne touched his shoulder comfortingly, the muscle of his strong shoulder relaxed noticeably at her touch. There were times where she almost entertained letting herself enter a relationship with him. They certainly knew enough about each other, and she certainly had some frustrations she’d have loved to get out, and she knew he was holding himself back much more than he would ever be willing to tell. He was charming, shared her views, and she felt comfortable around Solas. But he didn’t feel like  _ home _ to her. He held  _ too much _ back, not just in regards to her, but in everything. Her instincts told her like warning bells that this would be a bad match for her.

 

“You didn’t upset me, Solas. If I am being honest, I… rather enjoyed it. But, we both know it would be a foolish thing to continue. I am sorry.” 

 

He took the hand she’d placed on his shoulder and laced their fingers together before kissing the inside of her wrist. The action sent tingles over her skin and suddenly the aching desire she’d been fighting with danced across her skin like gooseflesh. Rewarding himself with one last intimate touch, it seemed. 

 

Had Erenne been a  _ bit  _ younger and more foolish, and if it hadn’t been for how she felt about Cullen, she’d have fallen head over heels for the regal-looking mage in that moment.  “You are right, of course... And I value our friendship too much to taint it further.” He let go of her hand to cup her cheek, his touch was firm and warm. His scent filled her nose, familiar and intimate to her now. “I will endeavor to respect your choice moving forward, and I would like for us to remain friends as before. No hard feelings, as humans say?”

 

She found herself smiling genuinely at him and nodded to his question. “ No hard feelings. I am glad we can agree in this.”

 

The Inquisitor left him then to his own devices, probably to work on one of his murals. She did so love his artwork. He had tried to teach her, but she proved that no one should  _ ever _ let her wield a paintbrush again. 

 

She needed to get these frustrations out of her system somehow, and badly. Without consequences. Without strings.

 


	6. A Momentary Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Iron Bull offers refuge to his frustrated Inquisitor.

**A Momentary Reprieve**

 

Later that evening, The Iron Bull found Erenne standing before him in the dim light of his room, he found himself grinning as his one good eye narrowed slightly from it.  She had shown up at his door, completely unannounced and unplanned. Not that he was complaining. 

 

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Boss?” He drawled smoothly, leaning back in his seat by the fire.

 

The mage shifted somewhat where she stood, as if unsure of herself. He could see the tension in her, the frustration. He’d been waiting for it, biding his time until she approached him for whatever release she sought. He'd given her an open invitation one night after she had complained about her frustrations to him. Bull’s gaze trailed over her form in the slowly dying firelight. 

 

“I wanted to...spend some time with you.” 

 

“Oh? What would you like to do? Drinks?” He didn’t want to presume, wouldn’t dare to - not to her face. 

 

She bit her lip slightly.  _ Oh _ , he  _ really  _ liked that little habit of hers. She seemed to do it whenever he caught her daydreaming. _ Naughty girl, _ she was probably thinking about one of Varric’s romance serials, or something along those lines...  He knew that she was a sexual creature, not at all unlike himself, and that sex was not some sacred act to her but he could  _ really  _ tell she hadn’t been getting any. The frustration was radiating off of her in tense waves. He could see it in the way she moved, the way her breathing changed when she got flustered or when he’d catch her staring at him, or Cullen, or really any other man that gave her attention lately. Though, her expression when she saw Cullen was… different. Deeper with meaning aside from the primal urges she fought. He didn’t want to get in the way of that.  

 

He noticed it all. It was his  _ job  _ to notice. Though details about  _ her _ he largely left out of his reports to the  _ Ben-Hassrath _ . Despite his loyalty to the Qun, they didn’t deserve those details. They didn’t deserve her.

 

“I require someone with your...subtlety, Bull. I know you would keep quiet about whatever I tell you and I…” she blushed. “I  _ really _ need to vent.” 

 

Vent? Was  _ that _ all? Surprised (though not entirely convinced), he barked a hearty laugh. “Come ‘ere, Boss. Tell me all about it.” He pulled her lithe form to him all too easily and sat her on his left knee. He dwarfed her small form by and far and he silently mused for a moment if she might even be able to handle him in the sack. She’d probably have to be on top, he guessed. “I am here for whatever you need.” 

 

She told him  _ everything _ . Everything that happened with Solas, she told him about her so far unrequited feelings for Cullen… She told him about her frustrations, her fears, her insecurities. He let her say what she needed to say, only commenting when necessary, and handed her his flask of  _ Maraas-Lok _ \-  which she immediately downed the entirety of, to his surprise. That was easily  _ double  _ the amount of the strong drink than he’d ever let her consume before, all gone in an instant. After an adorable coughing fit, she was drunk faster than you could say  _ Herald of Andraste _ , being so unused to this strong of a liquor versus her usual sweet wines that he likened to fruit juice, and it took every ounce of self control he had to not throw her onto his bed right then and take advantage. 

 

“...And I haven’t had sex in, like, over a  _ year. _ ” She slurred, grumbling. “I’ve  _ jusht _ … been too busy, and then the Conclave happened, and then the Inquisition, and I'm  _ the Inquisitor  _ and…I… I...” She looked down at the empty flask. “Fuck... I’m drunk.” She swore again, more elegantly, in her native tongue, and though he didn’t know the meaning it sounded quite melodic. That was just too sexy.

 

“Yes, you are.” He felt himself smile despite the distant worry.

 

She invoked a desire in him that he didn’t like denying.  Though many men and women made him feel that way,  _ she _ was supposed to be above it all - completely forbidden, and it made him want to claim her more. Even if only once.  

 

“Will you hold me? Be with me just for a little while?” She looked up at him with those big blue eyes, and his stomach tightened as he felt himself stir for her.

 

Okay,  _ now _ he was a little surprised. “...Are you sure you want this, Boss?” He shifted then, not that her weight on his knee even registered to him, but because he was weighing the potential  consequences of this against his own personal desires. How could she wield such power over him? He was The Iron  _ Fucking  _ Bull.  _ No one _ held this over him. Not even the Qun.

 

“I’m not asking you to  _ bond  _ to me, Bull, I’m not asking you to love me. This doesn’t need to be a  _ thing _ , does it?” Her voice sounded somewhat more sober in that moment.

 

No, it didn’t. He preferred it that way, and was pleased with their like-mindedness. How could he say no? How could he deny this woman before him the peace he  _ knew _ he could give her in her fragile state?

 

She looked distressed for a moment. “If you don’t want to it’s okay, it’s just that you had offered before and I just--” 

 

_ Oh.  _ No, no, he had to stop  _ that  _ line of thinking or she’d spiral into insecurity. She didn’t need that. He interrupted her, something he didn’t often do, and certainly not on purpose. “...Alright, Boss. Whatever you want.”  

 

She looked relieved then and she leaned closer to him. She was more fragile than he’d given her credit for.

 

He scooped her up in his muscular arms -nearly as big around as her torso was- with thoughtless ease, carried her to his bed and they laid together there, still clothed. He would only do whatever she asked, not wanting to instigate this into something she might regret. He wanted her, but he also respected her. She touched his face and her finger traced the eyepatch he always wore, traced his scars, touched his lips… when she touched his lips his slowly growing erection strained against his pants. He ignored it, for now. This wasn’t about  _ him _ . 

 

“I somehow can’t imagine your face without this…” She murmured softly, tracing the eyepatch again. Erenne smelled of some lovely Orlesian Lavender-Rose soap - he remembered the Ambassador and the Inquisitor speaking of the artisan products they’d bought in Orlais quite excitedly. She  _ did _ love her long baths whenever they returned to Skyhold from a trip. A thought he found himself lingering on especially now, with his thick arms wrapped around her much smaller frame. The contrast between them was almost comical to him. 

 

“I can’t either, anymore.” Bull replied back to her quietly, his deft fingers brushing through her silken black hair and brushing his fingertips over the shaved sides of her head. He adored that she kept up her traditionally Dalish look. 

 

At this touch, she closed her eyes contentedly. A soft murmur escaped her and he felt himself stir further. He tried to will it away, but he wanted to taste her. He refrained still. “Do you have any idea how tempting you are right now?”

 

“I don’t know, perhaps you can show me…?” Her tone gained a silky quality to it, like a beckoning lover in the night. 

 

She was baiting him and, damn it all, he took it eagerly now. So much for being in control.

 

The Qunari tangled his fingers in her hair and found himself kissing and sucking roughly at her neck, making her gasp aloud. “You dirty little minx…” He growled as his free hand went straight to her hip, pushing aside the dress she wore by way of the slit in its side that ran up her legs on both sides. She wore thigh high silken stockings and little else beneath this dress, and it was an easy enough task to press his fingers against her mons through her smallclothes. 

 

The elf whimpered and squirmed deliciously against him. It was such a sweet sound, and all he wanted was to make her scream in pleasure instead. “Oh,” She whined. “Please, Bull.” 

 

Unable to hold back at that, he  _ ripped _ her smallclothes off of her with a sudden rough tug-- making her gasp loudly from the shock and slight pain his actions caused.  The sound of the garment’s fabric tearing apart at the seams was immensely satisfying. 

 

Bull flipped her over so her back was to his chest, her dress hiking up even more so that her now bare ass pressed against the bulge in his pants. Immediately he plunged two of his fingers into her slick entrance, now fingering the Inquisitor in full earnest, his heavy palm purposefully pressing into her clit harder as he licked and sucked at her neck so he could hear her soft moans of pleasure. 

 

He ground his hips up against her rear, the hand that was tangled in her hair then moved to unbutton her dress and untie the sash at her waist. Now, he of course took great care with these particular garments because he knew they were sent to Skyhold from her Clan and therefore held value to her.  Soon enough, the beautiful caramel-skinned elf was laying naked in front of him and mewling wantonly to him for more. He bit her neck hard - she cried out in the mix of pain and pleasure as he pierced the skin. Her blood tasted good, and it only made his own rage harder in his veins. 

 

He played her like the Lute he’d caught her playing on the battlements once, when she thought no one would catch her sneaking up there. He knew what she needed from him. He gave it to her until she was like a clinging, quivering leaf against him, screaming out his name into the dim room. Moonlight filtered through the curtains at the window and the hearth fire was slowly dying away.  

 

Her thighs shuddered and twitched as he made her cum yet again. Bull lifted his now slick hand to her mouth, making her taste herself before he took a taste too. “Mm...delicious.”

 

“ _ Creators,  _ Bull..” She groaned heatedly, writhing against him. He remembered the straining erection he had as she curled against him like a sleepy feline. 

 

A smirk settled on his lips. “Shall I tell you what you want next, Boss?” 

 

“Oh, yes…” She groaned. “Please.” 

 

He smiled and murmured in his own native tongue to soothe her, kissing at her earlobe now, but never her lips. Not unless she wanted it, he told himself. If she wanted a quick fling with no strings, he had no problems giving her that. She didn’t deserve to be bound by her needs and desires. 

 

He  _ almost _ hoped Cullen would never notice her so he could do this with her regularly.

 

“You want to come over here, and kneel over my face so I can taste your sweet little cunt.” 

 

“What--?” Her cheeks flushed even darker than they had before as she twisted to face him. He reached out and grabbed at her delicate neck, squeezing softly, firmly. She bit her lip and her nipples hardened again with arousal.  A half-strangled moan escaped her. 

 

“My, my, you  _ are _ a filthy little elf - aren’t you?” He rumbled, lessening the squeeze on her throat so she could speak. 

 

“You have  _ no idea _ .” she was panting a bit.

 

“ _ Oh _ , I think I do, actually...” He chuckled. “Ben-Hassrath, remember?”

 

She grinned at him, not at all shy. “Of course. So you do.” 

 

“If you want more, just say the word… But I’m perfectly content to worship your pretty little body.” He kissed her hair, breathing in that flowery scent now mixed in the air with the smell of her sex. Erenne sighed softly, pressing up against him, her breasts touched his bare chest now. “So fragile…” The Iron Bull murmured, running a finger over the bruises on her neck and shoulder. “You’re not as fierce in bed as I imagined.” he rumbled lustily.

 

“Hmm, that’s hardly fair... We’re not having sex yet.” She nuzzled him, having sobered a bit more after hours of his ministrations. Her tone was challenging. He liked that, too.

 

_ Yet.  _ He barked a laugh. “Fair enough.”  She leaned up and kissed him then, it was a lingering, deep kiss - one he wasn’t expecting, but he returned it with as much passion if not more. She was bewitching enough that he had to be careful  _ he _ didn’t catch feelings.  A curious hand held onto one of his horns for a moment. There it was again, that need she invoked in him.  “Let me guess, you’ve always wanted to do that?” 

 

She grinned sheepishly at him now. “You’re too good at what you do, Bull…” 

 

“Yes, I am.” 

 

“So modest.” 

 

“You know me better than that.”  He chastised her softly, slapping her ass with a ringing smack. The action made her squeak in surprise as she arched away from the hit and up against him. He could not help but groan at the movement. “Fuck, Boss…” His control over himself was slowly thinning. 

 

“I need you right now, Bull.” 

 

The gratification he felt from those words made his blood rush again. “Inside this room, I am here to serve your  _ every desire _ , Boss...”  He stood slowly, unhooking the straps of his shoulder harness. She coiled smoothly and sat up on the bed, reaching out to work at his belt. Soon, he stood gloriously naked before her. He caught her gazing at the thick length of his fully erect cock in what he assumed was a mix of hunger and awe. ‘ _ That’s right, you’re getting all of this.’  _  He thought with satisfaction. “Remember that you asked for this, Erenne… If it gets to be too much, say ‘ _ Katoh’ _ , and I will stop. No questions asked.”

 

“You have.. A system?” She giggled. “Why am I not surprised?” 

 

The grin he flashed at her could only be described as deliciously evil. 

 

“Just for that..I’m going to _ make sure  _ you don’t walk straight tomorrow.” 

 

He made good on his promise, not to mention marking much more of her body with love bites and bruises. All night long, no matter how far or how hard he pushed her, Erenne didn’t once say  _ Katoh _ \- and that alone impressed the Ben-Hassrath to no end. 

 

Bull held her while she slept, passed out from sheer exhaustion after hours and hours of primal bliss.  He hummed a soft Qunlat song to her, nuzzling her hair and savoring her scent. Occasionally, she would stir and mutter about the Commander or mumbled elven words that he only understood bits and pieces of. The green glow of the Mark on her hand was the only light in the dark hours before the dawn. He let himself sleep, if only for a few hours. 


	7. Walk of Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor is reminded yet again that nothing TRULY stays secret in Skyhold.

**7 Walk of Shame**

 

Erenne slowly became aware of her surroundings with a half-hearted sigh as the first rays of morning managed to find their way through the single window in the simple stone room.  She’d fallen asleep in Bull’s bed, having had the best sleep she'd been allowed in months. The blanket they lay under was soft and well-worn, and she realized it must have been something he’d had from before joining the Inquisition. Her ‘front-line bodyguard’ had a sentimental streak. 

 

The memory of meeting him on the Storm Coast surfaced in her mind as she lay there next to the snoozing Qunari. The smell of raw sea air and rain, shouts of Tevinter mercenaries fighting and dying under his blade. She remembered the look he gave her when she killed one that had nearly snuck up on his flank - impressed, but wary. That particular mercenary had died from a lance of lightning through the chest, she remembered the smell of burnt hair, skin, and clothes from the poor sod. She remembered Bull’s praise of her expertise once the fighting was over. 

 

What would things have been like if she’d refused his offer, she wondered? In fact, she found she didn’t want to think about that. Bull had always been the most honest friend she’d had in this chain of events.

 

Her attempt to get dressed and sneak out  without disturbing Bull was interrupted by the giant Qunari essentially dragging her back into the bed by her sleep-mussed hair. His thick arms wrapped around her again as he gave her one more lingering kiss, and she marveled at how gentle he was with her in moments like this. Erenne was reminded fondly of how he treated her out on the field, with the utmost care and respect - even through his usual jokes and pointed observations he treated her as someone to protect with his life. The Ben-Hassrath wasn’t  _ truly _ obligated to her. He could easily betray the Inquisition at any time and yet he didn’t. He had more than proven himself to her time and again.

 

Suddenly, the Inquisitor was distracted from her reverie when she realized that the scent of her sex on his lips lingered faintly still from the night before. It immediately awakened a newfound need within her. 

 

“Mm.. If only we’d had more time last night.” He murmured, burying his chiseled and scarred face in her hair, being careful with his horns as always. “I would have liked to do much more.” She mused silently for a moment then that Bull was quite possibly the most self-aware lover she had ever had. He always had a plan, always was in control and knew what was needed. It was a much needed interlude from being the one in charge all of the time.  

 

“I don’t know, I like to think we did quite a bit.” She chuckled. “Either way, I really needed that. Thank you, Bull…”  Erenne squirmed pleasantly against him as his breath tickled her ear. 

 

The both of them had become very much stirred by the kiss. “Give me  _ one good reason _ not to tie you down and fuck you until breakfast hour.” his tone was rough but she  knew she knew the strain in his words was an urge held very tightly in check to simply  _ take _ what he wanted. 

 

Erenne giggled, giddy at the thought of it. “You are absolutely insatiable.” 

 

“So are you, Boss.” He countered softly while nibbling at her earlobe and pressing his large, rough hand against her lower stomach, slowly trailing lower. Reaching his goal, he casually dipped a finger into the apex of her legs, causing her to shudder. Bull grinned wickedly. “You haven’t protested yet…” 

 

The Inquisitor grinned widely, how could she say no? She laughed, her voice soft. “Alright, let’s go again.” 

 

The rumbling laugh he replied with made his muscles ripple, his scar-covered body pressed up against her. Bull pushed his finger up into a sweet spot for but a fleeting moment before he withdrew and stood, retrieving the bright red silken rope they’d used the night before. 

 

The next hour was pure bliss, and then they got dressed and walked to morning meal together as casually as possible.

 

He had held true to his word from the night before, for Erenne quickly realized she was definitely having some trouble walking. No one saw them leave his room together, luckily. Krem gave them a bit of a grin when they walked into the main hall together, but he said nothing about it. They sat at a table with Varric, Blackwall and - surprisingly - even Solas joined them this morning to Erenne’s discomfort.  

 

“Good Morning, everyone…” the Inquisitor said quietly, smoothing out her tousled hair and trying to cover the dark bruises on her neck in vain. 

 

“Good Morning Indeed...” The dwarf took one long look at Erenne and grinned, looking pointedly between her and The Iron Bull.  “Hm. Nice bruises, Lavellan.” he kept his tone quiet, but the grin on his face was absolutely mischievous. 

 

A brief silence fell over the table as she glared daggers at him. 

 

Solas cleared his throat awkwardly after his eyes settled on the bruises on her neck, rising from his seat red-faced and excusing himself without a word. Oh, he was absolutely  _ furious… _  This didn’t bode well. Erenne sighed heavily and picked at her food. Bull touched her shoulder reassuringly before getting up to retrieve some tea for them both. 

 

With the Qunari absent, Varric snorted. “So,” the dwarf began. “How does that even  _ work _ ?” 

 

“None of your business. And I needed a damned  _ break... That’s _ how.” This was already irritating her - so much for enjoying the post-coital afterglow. 

 

Blackwall snorted, seeming unaffected at first. “I don’t think I ever could have guessed  _ that _ would happen.” He took a bite of the roll he’d been eating. “Good for you, Lady Inquisitor.” The mischievous grin that played on his face and the look in his eyes were without a doubt the same caliber as Varric’s.

 

“We can stop talking about this, or I can think of an appropriate punishment for insubordination of this nature.”  She purposefully used a casual tone, and it had a deliciously terrifying edge to it. They knew full well that her version of ‘appropriate’ was often considered harsh.

 

That shut them both up. At least for now. ‘ _ Good _ ,’ she thought.

 

After having tea with Bull and the others, Erenne retreated upstairs to find a nice long bath, a change of clothes, and a dramatically high-collared leather piece to hide the bite marks on her neck and shoulders. She looked elegant in the Dalish style she usually wore, and no one was any wiser to the scratches, bruises, and bites that marred her skin beneath the outfit’s fine layers.

 

Later that afternoon, after going to all of her War Table meetings, Bull showed up in her quarters to apologize.  “I should have been more careful with you. I’m better than this.” He was being too hard on himself, not surprisingly.

 

Erenne waved a dismissive hand. How could she chastise him for this? She asked, he delivered - it was an even exchange. “You did exactly what you said you would, you gave me what I needed... I should be thanking you.” 

 

He smiled warmly at her. “Safe to say we shouldn’t speak of this again?” 

 

“Yes, I’d say so.”  She was relieved at his ability to not get attached.

 

“I will do what I can to make sure Cullen doesn’t find out, at least not  _right away,_ okay Boss?” 

 

She stood on her toes to kiss his jawline. “You’re the best.” His hand brushed down her back soothingly when she leaned into him. It was nice.

 

“I know.” He chuckled out in that deep voice of his. “And, if you change your mind and want to do this again..let me know. I’m here to help whenever you need, no strings attached.” 

  
She took great comfort in knowing she had that option if all else failed. If Cullen wasn’t truly interested in the end, she could always continue with the Ben-Hassrath to keep her  _ other _ appetite sated. That brought her more peace than she wanted to admit.  “Thanks, Bull.” 


	8. Moments of Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes by, and everything changes with it. Friends at odds. Progress made. Erenne is away, so it's time for chess. Varric takes shows Cullen and Solas what they've been missing out on. This chapter includes several small vignettes focusing on different characters. 
> 
> ** Note from the author: **  
> For the Elven language bits, I wasn't quite sure how best to list the meaning without having parenthesis everywhere. You can find all of the words I use easily online, however. I use the DA Wiki a *lot*.

**Moments of Honesty**

 

Solas sat at his desk, leaning forward, his posture unusually rigid. Seething rage rippled off of him in nearly palpable waves and Erenne felt the deep impression of his feelings the second she stepped into his view. The Inquisitor tugged nervously at a strand of hair, icy blue eyes staring into the dark storm that raged in his own eyes. It was almost as though he was purposefully letting her know his feelings in the air that crackled between them with energy.

 

His presence became oppressive, as if trying to press her down to the floor, to pin her with his anger. She could feel her own energy rising to the challenge, but tried to keep her feelings more subtle. She didn’t want to fight with him anymore, she wanted to go back to how things were before - and was that selfish? Perhaps, but it didn’t make her desire for it lessen any.

 

It astounded her that even a couple of weeks after her single night with The Iron Bull, Solas was acting so coldly towards her. They’d never gone without talking this long since they first met, and it was unsettling to deal with this change in routine. Her life was chaotic enough _without_ her friendships falling apart around her. She knew full well that she hurt him by denying the affection he offered her so freely while trading it out for another’s, especially a non-elf’s - not matter how unfair his feelings were, she still felt guilty for it. Erenne feared at this point that it could ruin their friendship. Erenne stepped forward, closer to his desk - she was ready to try to speak to him again.

 

“ _Ir abelas, ma falon.”_ She said softly, lingering directly in front of the desk where he sat, staring at her with such intensity it almost made her afraid.

 

He refused to look at her. “ _Mala Abelas, da’len_.” He replied with a hint of ice to his words. They left a vaguely bitter taste in her mouth. “You are only sorry that your shamelessness has affected me, not sorry for what you have done.”

 

“Solas, please, how can I make you understand?” She pleaded with him then, sincerely hoping he might try to listen.

 

“Understand how instead of turning to your own for comfort that you might seek it from a stranger, a _Qunari,_ Erenne?” She flinched visibly, his words cutting her.

 

As one might respond to such a cut, she bristled at his words. This was getting ridiculous. “So, it’s a problem because because I chose someone else over you?” She crossed her arms, stepping forward toward his desk. “If I ever have _real_ relationship with another man, will you hate me when I don’t choose you first?” She was acutely aware then of her shoulders being rigidly tense- almost painfully so. Did he really have this deep of an effect on her?

 

The silence that followed her question was tense and felt all too long. He sighed and pressed long, elegant fingers to his temples, closing his darkened eyes. She realized then he had dark circles beneath his eyes. “I just need some time, _da’len._ If we speak further now I may say some things that I shall regret-”

 

“More than you already have?” She spat, her tone raising. Her fists clenched at her sides then. “When will you stop punishing me for not being perfect like _you_?”

 

His expression darkened. “Perhaps if you thought, for a single moment, of how your actions affect everything around you, you might not act so foolishly.”

 

“I do, Solas. It’s _all_ I think about most days - my life is no longer my own, my feelings no longer my own. You stand against convention, and yet when I try to do the same, you berate and ignore me? Tell me how that is fair!” She was shouting now, her control gone. “Tell me, O great  _hahren._  Inform me on how I am such a disgusting _harellan!_ I eagerly await your lessons. _”_

 

That got a reaction. He slammed his hands on the desk, seething. “ _Dirthara-ma.”_ He hissed at her. “I am disappointed in you.” his voice had raised only slightly, he didn't dare to shout back.

 

She threw her hands up, disgusted. She’d had enough. “Dread Wolf take you!” That, among other sharp Elven curses were hurled at the other mage before Erenne stormed from the room, seething, her shout echoing in the room and up into the library. Before the door outside slammed behind her, she could hear Dorian up above saying something in his usual snark to Solas, though it sounded more angry than witty. She was certain half of Skyhold heard them arguing.

 

Searing hot tears stung her eyes as she briskly strode out to the battlements, needing space. Her shoulders slumped in defeat after she paused to lean against the battlement wall, staring out into the mountains. Would they ever set aside their differences and return to some semblance of normalcy? She had to walk away from it before it came to blows, even if her heart yearned to be able to take back his knowledge of her night with Bull.  

 

He was right, though, he usually was... She knew her actions had an effect on those around her. _By the Void,_ her actions often affected half of Thedas it seemed.  Was she not allowed to be a simple woman at times? Was she not allowed simple pleasures? Friendship? Love? Companionship? Romance?

 

Having to perch upon such a high pedestal made her want to escape it all. She missed her Clan now more than ever. Her life had been simple before if a bit mundane, but even still she longed for it now more than she ever had. If only she could vanish, if only she could spirit herself away. Far, _far_ away from all of this.  If only that were possible.

 

* * *

 

One of the side doors to Cullen's office opened wide as a scout walked through to hand him a report held fastened to a black clipboard, obviously from Leliana. He looked up toward the motion when they entered to see who approached. Behind the scout, he spotted Erenne, who was alone and staring out into the mountains surrounding Skyhold.

 

He accepted the report and dismissed the scout, immediately dropping it down onto the desk and rose from his seat to go to her side.

 

Her hair and the billowing sleeves of the long blue tunic she wore simply flowed with the stronger winds this morning. Whenever he saw her out on a windswept plain or out in the field, he always marveled at how otherworldly she appeared - so elegant, so pristine. The wind blew around them playfully, and it made him briefly wonder if she commanded these elements to bend beneath her will.  

 

The closer he got, the better he could see that she was distraught and had been crying recently. Her eyes were red, and her makeup had run slightly. ‘ _Who did this to her?’_ He thought, alarmed.

 

“Inquisitor?” His heart ached for her, to take all of her pain away, to protect her even if she didn’t need his protection.

 

She jumped visibly at the sound of his voice, clutching at her chest in surprise. “Ah!” She wiped her eyes with her sleeves a bit before turning to him, trying to regain composure. “Uh… Commander, good morning. Nice day, isn't it?”  That was his line, and he had to make an effort to not smile at that.

 

She was _embarrassed_ , he realized. And it was adorable. “Yes it is… are you quite alright, Inquisitor? You seem troubled.”

 

She murmured something in Elven, something he could not understand any of. He waited patiently for her to continue. “Truthfully? I am having a bad day.” She admitted. “I have upset a dear friend, and I fear it may not be something I can repair.”

 

His brow furrowed. It had to be Solas, damn him. Cullen didn’t know what  had gone on between them, but he’d noticed that Erenne had become more irritable the longer their disagreement had gone on. Josephine had had to pull the Inquisitor aside during one of their meetings to calm her down after an outburst this week.  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

She shook her head sadly. “If only you could, Commander. I rely on you so much, and you have never once failed me.” Her smile was sad, too, as she touched his arm. “I am so thankful to have you here. The Inquisition would be nothing without your efforts.”

 

He blushed. Where was this coming from? She had said this before but now it felt like more. “Nonsense, Leliana and Cassandra--”

 

She cut him off. “Do not sell yourself short, Cullen. You are the most honorable man I have ever known, and you deserve the credit for your work.” Her hand lingered on his arm and Cullen became acutely aware that they were alone and away from prying eyes.

 

He dared to step a bit closer, a familiar distance but not uncomfortable. “Thank you, Inquisitor.” The reply came much more softly than he'd intended.

 

Erenne looked up at him then, her blue eyes tinged red around them from her tears. “Cullen…?” Her voice was tentative, cautious even.

 

The love he felt for her swelled. He would move the heavens and mountains if only he could be hers. “Yes, Inquisitor?”

 

“Do you think you could you ever care for a Mage?”

 

The words were like lightning through his senses. He was completely caught off guard. _Maker_ , how did she always manage to do this to him? The Commander almost feared she might be able to read his thoughts sometimes. “I… well, I'm not bound by the Order any longer, so…” his face felt hot suddenly, any attempts at collecting himself now was moot. “That depends on the mage, I suppose.”

 

Her cheeks darkened, she looked timid. “Even a Dalish one?”

 

He stepped closer, then stilled before he spoke again. “That depends, Inquisitor…”

 

“On…?” Oh, she was getting breathless now. He felt his stomach tighten and the faintest hint of arousal stirred within him at her tone, but kept it under control.

 

Cullen replied before he could think. “On what _you_ want, Inquisitor.” his words were a bit more blunt than he'd wanted, but she at least got the message.

 

Her breath hitched as he leaned closer and it was all he could do to not throw her over his shoulder and whisk her away so he could ravage her up in his room. She would be worth the wait. “Cullen, I…” Her breath had quickened and her hand moved to touch the armor over his chest, over his heart.

 

“Inquisitor…” His lips had so nearly captured her own before the door from his office slammed open, causing them both to immediately jump away from each other in surprise.

 

Cullen pivoted sharply away from her and growled at the interrupting scout to leave them, sending the man scurrying off in terror. Erenne laughed breathily at his reaction once they were alone again.

 

“I believe you were about to say something, Commander?” The way her brow quirked at him made him smirk back.  But she _was_ a cheeky one with him…  

 

Emboldened by her words, he moved to her side again, pulling her to him more roughly than he’d intended and allowed himself a single, lingering kiss. The half-moan, half-whimpering sound she made when he did was enough to set his desire for her aflame within him. She tasted of the honey and cream she put in her tea this morning… One hand stroking her hair, the other firmly around her waist - he wanted to make the moment last, to commit her to memory.

 

 _‘Not too much, not too soon.’_ He reluctantly pulled back with a lazy slowness. To his amusement, she obviously tried to follow his lips when he did so. Cullen smirked at her before stepping away, feeling victorious and hoping to leave her wanting more of him.

 

* * *

 

Days passed like a blur since their kiss out on the battlements, and Cullen could see a difference in her he hasn't quite anticipated.  She seemed more at ease and somewhat less distracted. Through meetings and her travels they saw each other less than he’d wanted, but he found himself thinking of her now more than ever. The way her lips felt on his own, her silken hair, the taste of honey and cream… He shook his head.  Even in her absence while traveling, their work never seemed to slow down.

 

Erenne had been away from Skyhold for three weeks so far this time, having gone off with Bull, Varric, and Dorian to scout out and expunge more of the Venatori activity on the Storm Coast. There had also been reports of Darkspawn in the area that she wanted to ‘check out’. Why _anyone_ would purposefully wish to observe Darkspawn was beyond her.

 

Meanwhile, in the Skyhold gardens, Cullen found himself joined by none other than Solas in the gardens.

 

“Good afternoon, Commander. May I join you?” He stood lingering near the table where Cullen had been making an attempt to play through his game with Erenne.

 

This was rare. Not truly wishing to be uncouth to the apostate in public, Cullen nodded and motioned to the other chair. The Commander knew by now of the spat Solas had with Erenne - half of Skyhold knew the argument word for word apparently. He was not happy that Solas had made the Inquisitor so upset, but he also had a duty to lead by example and do what he could to _prevent_ any conflicts, not start them.

 

He rearranged the chess pieces.  “Certainly, Solas. I always welcome new challengers to the game.”

 

Solas smirked slightly, his lips quirking at one side. He took the first move and they began to play. There were little words between them, until Erenne came up in conversation. Of course.

 

It started casually, discussing her current mission, but then his true purpose came through. “I have heard she might be seeing someone, do you happen to know anything about it?”

 

Cullen frowned. He had only kissed her once and surely that hadn't been seen, so he played the fool. “No, I don't… Do you?”

 

“Not really, but I _did_ see her at breakfast early last month, and she had large bite marks on her neck. She tried to hide it with her hair, but didn't exactly do a good job of it.” He scoffed humorlessly. He was _jealous_ … and Cullen would absolutely savor the expression on the Elf’s face.  “I suppose what she does in her free time is her own choice, but it was...unsettling... to see her like that. I'm surprised you didn't notice, given you spend so much time together in meetings.” That last comment was a bit of a challenge - he would refuse to lower himself to that pettiness.

 

He put on his best incredulous tone. “What do you mean by “large”?”

 

Solas gave him a dead panned look. “Qunari-sized.” Was all he said in response, his tone almost disgusted.

 

Somehow, Cullen wasn't surprised at that. The Iron Bull had made a grand total of _zero_ attempts to hide the fact that he badly wanted to seduce her. He wondered, was it still happening, even though Cullen had kissed her? Was she intending on their interactions only being casual?  He felt a pit in his stomach at the thought, but he knew that he surely could not judge her. He had no claim over her, it was only a kiss.

 

He'd have to state his intentions, make a real attempt at showing her how he felt about her if he wanted her to commit.

 

Gathering up what little ‘worldliness’ he had, Cullen scoffed. “I see. The Inquisitor is still a woman, Solas. Despite how either you or I might feel, she is allowed to make her own choices and do what she wants.”

 

The elf looked surprised, as though he was looking for someone to commiserate with and thought he would be the willing party. Or perhaps he was surprised at Cullen’s open admission? “I... suppose you are correct.”

 

He wanted to roll his eyes. “Of course I am. How would anyone begin a relationship if they could hold someone’s past against them?”  He felt more confident in his words as they came forth, despite his own dark moments of silent jealousy in the past over seeing the apostate so close to Erenne. “Not that I’m an expert.”

 

Of course, he realized this was exactly what he wanted-- for Erenne to accept him as he was, despite his past, even if he knew he didn't deserve it.

 

He made his move in the game, and they continued to play in relative silence.  Eventually, Cullen won their little game and Solas nodded to him at his victory.

 

* * *

 

When Erenne returned to Skyhold another week later, Cullen was trying very hard to not seem like he was waiting for her, and stood alone on the overlook that faced the main gate into the Skyhold lower courtyard. leaning against the stone railing that separated the courtyard levels. Erenne had told him once that Cole often sat here to watch over the wounded below. A grim thought, he realized. He dreaded the idea of anything happening to Erenne.

 

She was arm-in-arm with both The Iron Bull and Dorian while Varric walked beside them, all four of them laughing about something that had happened on their trip. The Qunari’s hand rested low on her back, although he was licking his lips while looking at Dorian over the Inquisitor’s head. _Interesting…_ Cullen thought.

 

Erenne laughed aloud again, throwing her head back with joyful abandon at something Varric said. “Varric, you are _terrible!_ ” She giggled, leaning directly towards Bull as she let her laughter subside.

 

Cullen watched as they all parted ways at the gate, and she made for the main stairs that led up to where he stood waiting after Bull and Dorian had already retreated into the tavern.

 

Varric even spared a glance at him on his way up to the main hall. “Talk to her, Curly.” He’d said with a little wink.  “Trust me. She missed you.” The words made Cullen happier than he wanted to admit.

 

When Erenne reached the top of the stairs, her body seemed to immediately follow her bright blue gaze straight to the Commander.  She was wearing a flowing blue coat with intricate green Elvish embroidery down the front of it, white linen tunic, brown leather riding pants and boots. Her black hair was braided and rested stylishly over one shoulder. He marveled at how she managed to look perfect, even after days spent out in the wilderness.

 

With her standing before him at last, he was suddenly at a loss for words and stood awkwardly there, stammering somewhat. _Idiot!_ “Ah...I-I am glad to see you’ve returned to us victorious once again Inquisitor.” _Maker,_ could he have sounded more awkward?

 

The slender elf tilted her head in response, looking him over with an eyebrow raised. “So formal, Commander? You wound me.”

 

He stiffened. “I -” He took a moment to collect himself, continuing with a softer tone. “I dare say I have missed you, Inquisitor.”

 

Her smile right then felt like a ray of sunshine on the coldest day. “That’s a _bit_ better.” she stepped a little closer, speaking quietly then. “I missed you, too, Commander.”  She gave him a wink before walking away.

 

 

* * *

 

**\---  Several Days later —-**

“ _Elgara vallas, da'len - Melava somniar... Mala taren aravas.. Ara ma'desen melar…_ ” The soft lilting song floated through the air, accompanied by the sound of a lute’s strings being gently strummed upon.  It was dusk, before the evening meal, and Erenne was sitting alone on the floor of the gazebo where she had played chess with Cullen all those weeks ago. The courtyard often cleared out at this time as the people of Skyhold would get ready for dinner - even the Chantry priests.

 

Up on the Battlements, Varric urged the Commander and their resident Fade-obsessed apostate toward the gardens. He'd urged them to be quiet and so far they had complied. “C’mon boys, I have a surprise for you. You’re going to _love_ it.”

 

They arrived at their destination entirely unbeknownst to the Inquisitor.  Varric smirked wickedly at both Solas and Cullen's collectively bewildered expressions. They stood in the shadowed area of the upper perimeter walkway above the gazebo and the surrounding garden, fairly obscured from view.

 

The garden itself was a thriving little hollow teeming with plant life, Erenne had practically made it her own since their arrival, planting a variety of medicinal herbs and other plants to aid the apothecaries with their work and hid small statues and shrines to the Elven gods amongst the shrubbery, many of which had been wood carvings she made after Blackwall had taught her some of his own techniques with the art. Varric had caught her leaving small offerings near them before missions on multiple occasions. Dried flowers, coins, gemstones, and other little tokens as offering to them all. She even had a small wolf carving to commemorate Fen'Harel.

 

The dwarf remembered being surprised at how _mortal_ it made her seem, daring even to find her little hidden Dalish shrines endearing. He sometimes forgot that she was still a woman, and not just a shining beacon of his faith.

 

Keeping his tone low, he finally spoke again after they all observed. “Let me guess... _Neither_ of you knew that the Inquisitor could sing like that?” The dwarf crossed his arms, amused.

 

 _“...Iras ma ghilas, da'len. Ara ma'nedan ashir… Dirthara lothlenan'as, Bal emma mala dir…”_ The Inquisitor’s song continued below, drifting through the air like a spell. For all Varric knew, it _could_ have been a spell. She was wearing rather casual clothes, another rarity from the Elf. She often wore more formal dress or armor, but today she wore a short tunic, cut off leggings, and of course no shoes. Intricately woven, small braided hemp necklaces with small beads and plain gemstones adorned her throat. Similarly made adornments were on her wrists and ankles as well. Perhaps a Dalish style? Varric didn't recognize it if it were.

 

Solas scowled, obviously unhappy that he had not known this already.  “We’ve been busy training, there’s been no time for this.” his tone was defensive.

 

“You mean you’ve been busy being mad at her?” Varric replied, his tone bordering on sour. Cullen snorted.

 

“What goes on between us is none of your business.”

 

“It is when you make her cry, Chuckles.” The dwarf said firmly. “But that’s not why I brought you here.”  

 

 _“Tel'enfenim, da'len. Irassal ma ghilas.. Ma garas mir renan.”_ Her voice was so soft, yet up on their perch it seemed she was singing directly to them. Her bright blue eyes were closed happily as she seemed to lose herself in the sweet and soothing lyrics.

 

Varric leaned back against the wall, staying further out of view. Solas mimicked him. “She’s extremely passionate about it. Usually hides in much harder to find places than this, though. I’ve only caught her doing this a couple times before.”

 

Cullen stepped forward slightly, looking down at the sight below, his eyes full of wonder for possibly the first time either of them had ever seen. “By the Maker, she _is_ talented...” He trailed off. “What song is that? It’s beautiful.”

 

“ _Ara ma'athlan vhenas, Ara ma'athlan vhenas…”_ Her voice was so soothing. Was there anything this woman could _not_ do?

 

Solas smirked because of course he knew. “It’s a Dalish lullaby called ‘ _Mir Da’len Somniar’_. She... I’ve never heard it sung like that before.” His expression softened. “...She surprises me yet again.” Varric knew they’d been fighting a lot lately and it had been weighing them both down. Not the kind of team dynamic the Inquisitor needed right now, but he at least had sympathy for Erenne.

 

Cullen looked to Varric, curious. “Why does she hide this? Do you know?”

 

“Wouldn’t _you_ want just one little thing to keep to yourself if you were in her position? Everyone wants to know literally everything about her, the poor woman can’t find any damned peace.” He shrugged. “That’s my guess. Or maybe she’s just shy about it?”

 

They all stood silently for a while to hear her sing in her soft, beautiful voice - none daring to alert her to their presence, for fear of wrath their spying might invoke from her.


	9. The Shared Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confession uttered in the untamed forests beneath the moon. Erenne finally knows where she stands.
> 
> (Author's note: I really enjoyed writing this chapter! I hope you like it too!)

**The Shared Dream**

 

_ ‘Sylaise gave us fire and taught us how to use it. Sylaise with all her mercy showed us how to heal with herbs and with magic, and how to ease the passage of infants into this world…And again, it is Sylaise who taught us to spin the fibers of plants into thread and rope. The Huntress gives us much, and it is to her we owe our comfortable lives.’  _

_ -The Hearthkeeper verses, Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel. _

 

* * *

 

  
  


Erenne was standing in the midst of a very familiar forest West of Wycome in the Free Marches. It was a place relatively uncharted by she  _ shemlen  _ and was an area her clan often frequented. It was also the last place Clan Lavellan had been before she departed their company for the Conclave. All too familiar pangs of longing overcame her at the memory. The Inquisitor missed her people, she missed her life as First to Keeper Deshanna and spending her days in study and peaceful contemplation of her devotion to her Goddess.

 

There were no Aravels in sight. No Keeper, no Clan… ‘ _ Surely, this must be a dream.’ _ She thought. Cheerful sunlight filtered down through the canopy of leaves above, warming her skin causing her to smile fondly until an instinctual impression made her turn toward what she could only describe as a sinking feeling of great longing left unchecked.

 

Solas stood leaning against a tree in the direction she turned, as if appearing from thin air. She was right about it being a dream, though it all felt so real - the air, the earth, the memories conjuring themselves in her senses. She could feel the sunshine still, smell the earth below her bare feet, grass pushing up between her toes and tickling her exposed calves. 

 

She realized she still wore her thin white silk nightgown instead of regular clothes. The pale garment did little to hide her form, but the thought was fleeting, she was transfixed as he moved toward her- twilight suddenly fell over the forest like a shroud dropped.   His stride looked calm and calculated, so confident and graceful that he almost seemed like another person entirely - the impression it left was strange. The faint smell of sweet flowers on vines slowly claiming the trees filled her senses. The air became faintly humid, the singing of crickets and distant rustling of Halla quietly grazing in the night prickled at her ears, making her more distinctly aware of her surroundings. Instinct sharpened itself on her awareness, truly feeling as though she were in the woods again. 

 

She missed this place so dearly. Was that why he brought her here - or had he simply  _ found _ her in this place?

 

The tall, thin trees around them reached up endlessly towards the star-filled sky. The moon was full and the air was warm. Somehow, she knew it was perpetually midsummer in this place. Fireflies floated about like will-o-wisps, everything felt magical here. The same as her memory, but also distinctly different. 

 

Solas walked on, closer, now fully bathed in moonlight as if the sheer force of him moved time itself in this place. He was wearing finery that she had never seen him in before of a distinctly Elvish style. The fabric of his jacket had intricate designs unlike anything she'd seen before, though it was familiar at once all in black and silver with a long white fur cloak. Was this how he chose to appear in his own dreams, so regal and distinguished? A reflection of his true self? “ _ Lethallan _ … I must speak with you.” His voice was soft but worn thin as one might sound after yelling for too long.

 

She bristled somewhat, indignance filling her chest like her insides were burnt by still-hot ashes in the hearth. “Why now, Solas? You couldn’t simply speak to me when we’re awake?”  She wanted to be angry, to lash out at him again - to shout - even if she had been the offending party in this spat of theirs... as far as Solas had been concerned, at least. 

 

He made her feel remorse for seeking the release she had desperately needed, and for what? To quell his envy? His pride?

 

He flinched visibly at her words and guilt filled her instantly. “Please, Erenne. I have been losing more sleep over this than I could say.” He sighed, raising an elegant hand to rub at his eyes exhaustedly. His use of her name for the first time in weeks gave her pause.  “I must beg your forgiveness for how I’ve been treating you. I was jealous and I… The idea of you finding intimacy elsewhere…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I know I have no right to feel this way, you have made your intentions clear and I should respect that.” 

 

“Yes, you should.” Erenne replied simply, though there was no malice left in her tone. The embers of the anger she’d felt died down, leaving her feeling cold. 

 

He knelt down on one knee before her in the grass, bowing his head low and not looking up as he spoke. “I would pledge my very soul to you here and now if I thought it would change your mind. Though ‘twould be a cruel promise I could not keep.  _ Ma Lath vir Suledin _ , even if I must let you go  _ da’len _ .” 

 

“Solas…” His confession left her dazed.The words said aloud made them real - she always felt that they were true, she realized, from the moment they first shared a dream together. This wasn’t their first time visiting each other in dreams, either, another realization coming to her memory. It was sometimes hard to distinguish between these carefully constructed places and reality when looking back on the memories. 

 

“I know you won’t, Erenne…. I understand that, I will accept that.” He paused a moment before continuing as if collecting himself for what words came next. “You love the Commander, do you not?”  Erenne hesitated. When she didn't speak up, he continued on. “He is a good man, far better than I. He will take good care of you where I most certainly cannot.” 

 

When he rose, there was something different in his eyes, a sorrow deeper than she’d ever seen in him. Her chest tightened at the sight of it. “Solas, I…” Fighting to find the words felt like she was slowly drowning as a lump formed in her throat.

 

“You do not have to explain _. _ ” He said softly, raising his hand in a gesture to silence her, soothe her. “I have considered this for some time now, and I must let you go in this regard. I will be here for you, and you must know that I _ do _ respect you more than I could ever say. You have a wisdom within you that I have not seen in many people, and I am honored to know you.”  He cupped her cheek as he often did. “I will see this through to the end,  _ da’len. _ We must defeat Corypheus.” The determination in his voice was strong.

 

Tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “ _ Ir’Abelas _ ,  _ Lethallin..” _ She whispered shakily. Causing sorrow in him hurt her more deeply than she could ever have dreamed. They cooled her now burning cheeks, streaking down her face and neck. 

 

Solas’ expression changed when she cried for him. Unreadable now. He wiped her tears away so gently that she had to fight an urge to burst into tears again. “Wherever you go, whatever happens, I give this piece of myself to you, this dream we share will never disappear so we can always find each other.” He turned slightly, gesturing to the forest around them. “I have one selfish request of you now, if I may be so bold.” 

 

“Name it.” She said in a quivering voice. 

 

“Would you sing for me?” The request was entirely unexpected, and he smiled faintly at what must have been the telling look on her face. “I heard you in the gardens yesterday... I should very much like to hear you again. Something just for me, if I may ask this of you?”

 

“What would you like to hear?”

 

“Just your voice, anything will do...”

 

They sat in the grass together then, Solas rested against one of the trees and she stayed right next to him. And so she sang, something she had never done specifically for anyone else before. She sang mostly the Dalish lullabies she remembered from her childhood until he slumped against her in peaceful slumber. What did it mean to fall asleep in a dream, she wondered?  All she could smell as she began to drift was the faint scent she’d begun to associate with the other mage.

 

_ “Wake up, Da’len.” _

 

The next morning Erenne awoke with a jolt and immediately sought Solas out after dressing for the day. He was gone, but he had left a note in neat Elvish script for her on his desk: 

* * *

 

_ Erenne - _

 

_ I will be away for the day, I shall return to Skyhold tonight so please do not fret. See you soon.  _

 

_ Faithfully Yours, _

_ Solas _


	10. Blade in the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betrayal comes in many forms, and the Inquisitor suffers deeply for it. Erenne and Cullen grow closer. Solas manages to further ingratiate himself to the Inquisitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Author's note: this is by far the longest chapter. Previous chapters were between 4 and 10 pages long (mostly), this one was 17... I will be trying to make them longer moving forward!)

_ Several Weeks Later... _

 

Dark clouds circled above in a brewing storm and Erenne silently thanked Sylaise for good hunting weather. Her Storm magic always seemed to work best when the weather matched her work. Whispered elven words escaped her lips, a tingling energy bringing every nerve in her body alive with power. She weaved the needed amount of mana within her to life and unleashed it with what she could only call her own personal war cry as the air across the field crackled. She became vaguely aware of Dorian turning his attention to her as she unleashed the spell. Lightning in the shape of a trident shot forth from her hands, across the bloodied field like a streaking comet - plunging directly into the skull of the Wyvern they were fighting before crackling away into the air. It also  _ very _ narrowly avoided Bull and Cassandra. Both warriors jumped back in surprise from the magical bolt, and the Wyvern before them collapsed to the ground, fried to death at last. 

 

“By the Maker, Inquisitor! You almost hit us!” Cassandra shouted once she realized the battle was finally over. A pack of Wyverns had attacked them upon finally entering Ghilan'nain's Grove because  _ of course _ they did.  Undead everywhere, bandits ravaging the countryside, the day had felt endless and the Inquisitor had had enough.

 

Erenne twirled her staff with a flourish, feeling mostly unconcerned by the outburst. “I was careful. You were fine and still are, I might add, Cass.” 

 

“Boss, even I have to admit that was pretty close...” Bull added uneasily.

 

She sighed, conceding to their observations. She raised her hand to quell them. “My apologies for startling you both, then. It was not my intent to do so. I had a narrow opening and I took it, but I have every confidence you would have been fine even if I’d missed.”

 

“How so?” Cassandra asked, having calmed down a bit.

 

Dorian  chuckled. “Darling, Erenne is a true master at sculpting her spells around allies. She learned the  _ finer _ techniques from the best, and by ‘the best’, I mean me.” He grinned fabulously and The Iron Bull laughed. 

 

“Of course you are, Dorian.” Bull said, amused.   
  


Erenne laughed too. “Yes, we can all agree that I am practiced in control of my spells.” Louder, she shouted gruffly over her shoulder to the team of soldiers nearby:  “Let’s move everyone! Time to set up camp, keep on the lookout for more trouble!” The immediately scrambled into motion on her command.

 

They trudged onwards, setting up a camp as planned within the grove, allowing the rest of their retinue enter the sheltered area now that the Wyverns had been cleared out. Bull directed some of the soldiers as they organized themselves, setting up a perimeter and all of the tents By now, months on the road on and off had caused this process to be rather monotonous. 

 

According to Erenne’s most recent reports from Sister Nightingale, the Empress was rumored to be gearing up to announce a grand ball at Halamshiral. This was looking likely to include peace talks as well with Duke Gaspard and an Ambassador named Briala, but they knew little else so far. Right now, the Inquisitor did not wish to dwell on an event that may or may not happen. 

 

In the meantime, she was determined to bring order to the Exalted Plains. Particularly after meeting Hawen and his Clan out by the river. Visiting with people from her culture, however briefly, was so refreshing to her.  Though, truthfully, she felt a bit awkward for speaking in Elven to the other Dalish Elves even knowing that her party did not speak it at all. 

 

That night, inspired by their encounter with the clan, Erenne told her friends stories about the ancient elves. They seemed at least mildly interested, though she felt they were just humoring her. She found herself missing Solas as a result - and silently she’d resolved herself to ensure to bring him back here on their next trip. Things had been better between them since that night they shared their last dream, even if he’d been more distant. Memories of the dream often interrupted her train of thought, as though that place called to her now, welcoming her to that place where she could give into her curiosity... Perhaps it was for the best for him, for them both, that they put up that wall. The indecision she felt over him was unlike her, a feeling she was working on letting go of - there had always been something about him that worried her deep down.

 

A quickly approaching messenger broke Erenne’s reverie on the subject of Solas the next morning at breakfast. The girl’s armor looked worn, as though she’d had her own fair share of scuffles even as a messenger. 

 

“Ser!”  She saluted crisply. “I have an urgent message for you from Skyhold.” 

 

Erenne stood from her seat next to Bull by the fire to turn and address the messenger. “Go ahead, soldier.” 

 

“The advisors require your immediate return to Skyhold - it’s regarding Halamshiral...” Her eyes darted about between them all, looking at Bull longer than the others. Suspicion. 

 

“Please, Continue.”  The Inquisitor prompted, the words coming out more sharply than she’d wanted. These long days on the road were really getting to her.

 

The messenger stiffened, picking up on the tone. “Apologies,Ser. You’ve got your way into the Empress’ Ball.” 

 

“Perfect. Dismissed.” Erenne’s tone was clipped. She watched the messenger scamper off towards the heart of the camp to report to Scout Harding next. 

 

The four of them looked at each other, surprised. Erenne had been beginning to doubt that Josie could make this happen - but she’d done it. A victorious grin spread on Erenne’s face as she looked to Cassandra - who looked less thrilled. She knew she’d have to join the Inquisitor. 

 

“Get some of the men ready - we leave as soon as I’ve finished eating.” She nodded to Bull, grinning widely. “Let’s take the Chargers back to Skyhold with us. We’ve got a long journey ahead.” 

 

“Got it, Boss.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen found himself pacing in the War Room, awaiting the Inquisitor’s return with an anxiety that seemed to darken the room around him. Something about today put a pit in his stomach that he couldn’t quite shake - and he couldn’t tell if it was merely worry or instinct that something might be wrong.  He already had begun planning for security for a visit to Halamshiral weeks ago, but the implications of a night gone badly give him a tense air that, of course, scared everyone around him. Servants and soldiers alike steered clear of his path without him having to even  _ say  _ anything. 

 

He felt like a roiling storm - tensed and primed for destruction- every catastrophic scenario rushed through his mind as he worked out strategies, patterns, organizing his troops. He was worried about the quickly coming event - he wished that Erenne did not have to appear at the palace. Meanwhile, Josephine was already planning on some kind of “uniform” for the Inquisition’s senior members for the event and making deals, plans for meetings, and far too much for him to keep track of. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too much required of Erenne in that regard- he knew that she hated diplomacy as much as he did. She was a direct woman, said what she wanted when she wanted it and often completely dispensed with pretense. That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t capable of pleasantries when it counted, of course. She wasn’t remotely the ‘savage’ he’d originally thought she was.

 

They had been spending more time together, mostly at the Inquisitor’s insistence, and he certainly did not wish to object to seeing more of the beautiful Elf. They typically kept things to  _ mostly  _ platonic, but private activities. Going out riding or for walks around Skyhold, sword technique practice, spending time in the library together, and taking meals alone together some nights among other things. In fact, he’d become quite proud of her progress when they trained together and increasingly attached to her each time they spent any length of time together. He cherished even spending time with her in the War Room when their interactions were almost always strictly business with the other advisors. 

 

Once, she arrived in his tower with basket and blanket in hand, promptly ordering all of the soldiers and scouts in his office to leave them be for an 'important matter’. This, in reality, was so they could have a picnic on the battlements. They didn’t dare question the Inquisitor.  _ ‘I thought you needed a break.’ _ She had said nonchalantly before stepping close to kiss him as the scouts all scurried away, daring to not wait until they were alone.  _ That _ definitely sparked some rumors - Cullen found himself smiling at the memory.

 

How he longed to hold her every time they crossed paths, an urge he had been keeping very much in check. That was not to say that he  _ always _ followed the rules of propriety to the letter. Stolen kisses in their few moments completely alone together were becoming more and more frequent, and each time he found it harder to let go.

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. In fact, images of her painting his mind’s eye in sleep began to replace his nightmares some nights. Cullen wanted her to see that he was serious about a relationship with her. He wanted there to be no doubt about his commitment - and some days, the withdrawal he suffered made it difficult for him to focus on anything, let alone romance. Yet another thing lyrium was trying to rob him of. He thanked the Maker constantly for Erenne’s seemingly infinite patience, even if he knew she wanted more from him. 

 

He leaned forward, hands propped on the table as he loomed over the map, glaring at it as though a plan might spring forth if he stared intensely enough. He sighed heavily. ‘ _ This isn’t going to work - I can’t think of everything on my own…’ _ He thought silently in frustration, brown eyes closing slowly as he felt the sunlight on his back, streaming through the window behind him.

 

A soft knock came at the door, and Josephine peeked her head in. “Commander? The Inquisitor has returned…” She sounded different, but he could not quite place a finger on why.

 

“Yes, thank you Josephine.” He said, striding to the door, which she pushed open for him. Leliana was out in the hall, too. They both looked very serious. _ That  _ certainly wasn’t a good sign. “...What is it? What’s happened?”

 

“Erenne was… injured… on the journey back.” Josephine said delicately, unable to look him in the eye.

 

Cullen suddenly felt as though the very foundation of his life shook and cracked beneath his feet. ‘ _ No, no no…’ _ He thought, _ feeling _ the blood drain from his face, leaving him colder. “ _ What? _ Why didn’t you tell me!?” He seethed, his throat tightening.

 

They both looked immediately guilty. Leliana was the first to answer, her voice gentle and apologetic.  “We… Wanted to make sure she was stable... To prepare you. I’m sorry, Commander, it was  _ my  _ decision to-” 

 

He was already stalking briskly down the hall, cursing under his breath and leaving them behind.

 

“She’s been moved up to her chambers to rest..” Josephine called after him, sounding strained. 

 

Cullen ignored them, practically running out into the main hall and directly into a familiar Qunari’s chest. The Iron Bull let out a little ‘oof’ at the minor inconvenience.

 

“Whoa, Commander! Slow down.” Bull saw the look on his face and the Qunari’s expression immediately sobered. “...You heard about the boss?” 

 

“What happened to her? You were supposed to _protect_ _her_ on the field!” He hissed, jabbing a finger in his direction. 

 

In response to the curious glances of the people around them, Bull placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let us speak for a moment… _before_ you go up to see her.”  They walked off toward the Inquisitor’s throne, away from eavesdropping ears. “...They came out of nowhere, Cullen, I’m sorry.” The Qunari said with a surprising softness. “I would have given _anything_ to have taken her place.”  He could tell the Qunari was serious. “She _was_ my responsibility, you’re right...” He shook his head a bit, his normally neutral expression read as regret now. 

 

“I need to know what happened, Bull.” The worry in his voice made it crack. He wasn’t just worried, he was  _ terrified _ for her. He felt very  _ out  _  of control in that moment and it threatened to spiral into a very dark place if he was not careful. Faint whispers and memories of Lyrium draughts taunted him.  _ Everything was easier to handle with Lyrium. You would know what to do if you took some Lyrium...  _ Everyone _ liked you better on Lyrium…  _ He shut out the memories. He had to focus on the present. He had to focus on the matter at hand. “..Who?”

 

“They were ‘Vints... Used magic to bypass our defenses, attacking her with fire spells and one of them.. he...stabbed her. She had multiple lacerations and other more severe injuries from the other agents, but one in particular was  _ really _ bad. She managed to put her shoulder into the worst of it instead of something more vital, but… it wasn’t pretty. The spear he used was poisoned. Maybe enchanted, too. Corrupted shit.” He looked away. “I killed the agent that used the spear. I know I should have captured him for questioning, but…” The Qunari grit his teeth, his jaw clenching and the muscles in the thick column of his neck bulged. He was furious still, of course. “I couldn’t let him live. I  _ needed  _ to see him  _ bleed  _ for what he did to her.”

 

Cullen understood the feeling more than he could have expressed. “Is she conscious? I need to see her.” 

 

“She will be alright I think, and she was awake when I left her. I got the antitoxins I keep in my pack to her in time, thankfully, and she keeps all sorts of herbalist tools in her pack too; so between the three of us we were able to get her stabilized.” He sighed. “Don’t get her too riled up, okay? I think Solas is already up there.” 

 

“I see.” His heart sunk. The look on his face must have been pitiful, because it made Bull raise a brow. 

 

“Go up there, Commander. I don’t foresee her changing her mind about you anytime soon.” 

 

The reassurance was more than he’d expected, and he immediately found the conviction to stride up the stairs to her chambers quickly. He made sure the door to the stairwell slammed loudly enough for Solas to know he was coming.  When he arrived at the top of the stairs, he could see Solas sitting on her bed, close to her, his hand touching her wound gently as his hand glowed with magic. 

 

Erenne turned her half-lidded gaze toward him. “Cullen…? Is that you?” She rasped, sounding weaker than he had ever heard her sound, other than after Haven. That same fear wracked him again now. His eyes widened as he stared at her - she looked ashen but feverish, her black hair stuck to her damp brow and her eyes slowly closed again as if she were unable to keep them from doing so. The color seemed to be drained from her- the vibrant rich hues of her skin seeming duller now.

 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.” He moved closer to the bed, fear-stricken. 

 

Solas turned slightly to look over his shoulder at Cullen. If he felt any relief or camaraderie for him, his expression certainly didn’t show it. “Ah. Commander. Good... You can keep the Inquisitor company once I finish up here.” He turned back to Erenne, murmuring something softly to her in their native tongue. Cullen always wished he could understand their language, to be able to speak to her as Solas did. Solas gently cupped her cheek, though his expression did not seem to display his feelings fully.  _ “Hamin, da’len…. Mala suledin nadas.”  _  the apostate’s voice was so soft, so incredibly  _ loving _ , that Cullen suddenly felt like he was intruding as he watched the tender scene between the two elves. Both in a world he felt he could never touch. 

 

Solas truly doted upon her, despite everything else. He had never truly stopped even when they were at odds with one another, Cullen knew. That all-too-familiar pang of jealousy made his skin crawl for a moment. He had to remind himself that they had not committed, that he had no claim over Erenne. He grit his teeth for a moment before forcing himself to release the self-imposed pressure of the action.

 

Erenne smiled weakly, eyes once again opening slightly to gaze up at Solas. “ _ Ma serannas, ma falon _ .” She whispered back. “Go now, Solas. I need you to make that poultice for me… Use the recipe I told you please.” 

 

“Yes, Inquisitor.” He removed his hand from the larger wound and gently re-wrapped it in clean bandages. The wound itself had been cleaned well, though it still looked deep.  Healing magic unfortunately only went so far without using the forbidden practice of blood magic as far as Cullen knew. “I shall return later with the poultice and I will try another spell... Perhaps Madame De Fer can assist.” 

 

Finally, they were alone. Cullen moved to her side and sat on the edge of her bed gently. He took the hand of the uninjured side, her right side. “Erenne... “ He found his voice cracking, she looked so frail and small in the large canopied bed. “I was scared half to death, I was afraid that-” 

 

Her pale blue gaze slowly searched his face, although her eyes seemed glazed with pain and fatigue. “I am sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you.” The regret in her voice was painful for him to hear.

 

“No, don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I was careless. Unfocused.” She whispered. “I thought myself safe… Invulnerable... I should have learned by now.” Her tone was bitter. She was angry with herself for something she could not possibly have predicted. No matter how powerful she was as a mage, she certainly couldn’t foresee the future.

 

He bent to kiss her hand, and he could see some color return to her cheeks. “All that matters now is that you’re here. And that you’re safe.” He slowly felt relief wash over him when she smiled weakly up at him, some awareness returning to her eyes.

 

“How could I not return to you, Commander? Surely you’d fight your way to the afterlife just to scold me for being so careless, would you not?” 

 

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Probably. Not sure if that would be before or after I drink myself into a stupor.” 

 

Her expression sobered, she looked more aware just long enough to get the first few words out: “Cullen… If something happens to me, I need you to--”   
  


“No, please, let’s not talk about this now.” He whispered, kissing her hand again. “You will be fine. You need to rest, to heal. I need you to regain your strength.” 

 

At first she frowned, but slowly that beautiful smile spread to her lips again. That she had gathered the strength to smile at him or anyone in that moment was more than Cullen could have ever asked for.  “Perhaps a kiss from my knight in shining armor will bolster my healing efforts…” 

 

The fact that she had that wit about her still was a good sign. He laughed earnestly again, slowly leaning down to kiss her with a softness he didn’t realize he was capable of. “There now, my lady. How do you feel?”

 

“Like I could fight a  _ dragon _ ...” Her voice was weak still, but full of humor. 

 

“I think we will have to advise against any dragon hunting for a while, I’m afraid.” He found himself grinning at her. “It is good to know you’ve retained your wittiness...otherwise, I might be even more worried.”

 

He stayed with her for the remainder of the afternoon, gently petting her hair as she slept, fetching her things when she woke, and dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth when needed. She felt feverish, her body no doubt fighting off the toxins and Maker knew what else alongside processing the antidotes she’d been given. 

 

Eventually, Solas returned again to pick up where he had left off. The apostate looked at Cullen with an indeterminate expression before continuing on with his duties.  He’d known of their fight, and that they had supposedly patched things up again, though he’d been even more withdrawn from them all afterwards. Was their resolution that she had not chosen him as a potential lover? He dared not ask, even if the curiosity gnawed at him.

 

Erenne was fast asleep again when they traded places. “Thank you, Commander, for watching over her.” Solas said to him sincerely, keeping his voice down. “For now, it may be best for you to give us some privacy. I have to change her bandages and I have another spell I wish to try to close this up better.  Cullen nodded, respecting the apostate’s wishes - he wouldn’t do anything untoward to the Inquisitor. Of this, at least, he was certain. 

 

Cullen returned to the War Room to meet with Cassandra and Leliana to further discuss Halamshiral plans. The ball was only a couple months away, how would they organize it all with everything that was happening? Did he have to plan for the possibility that she would not be able to attend the ball at all? And how might that look to Empress Celene? They had no way of knowing whether or not Erenne’s recovery would be expeditious. Worry plagued him, but only time would tell.

 

* * *

 

_ A Week Later… _

 

Erenne leaned heavily on her staff to stand upright, sweat beaded her brow from the effort of it. It turned out that amongst the variety of lacerations she’d received in the ambush, she  _ also _ had cracked ribs and severe bruising elsewhere. Golden rays of sunlight filtered through all of the windows this morning, it was a beautiful day today - and she had had enough of this room. In fact, the second she was fully recovered she would endeavor to  _ not _ retire to her chambers for a while just for a change of scenery.  

 

The herbalists that had been tending to her tried to protest.  “Milady Inquisitor, you must rest! Too much activity can aggravate your wounds.” The healer pleaded in vain.

 

“I need not remind you who is in charge here.” She growled. “I’m going outside.” and headed for the stairs, absolutely determined to see something other than her chambers. When they persisted, she made the air crackle with electricity, the crystal sphere at the tip of her staff pulsed with purple light. Their hair all stood up somewhat from the static of the slowly brewing Storm Magic. The irrational need to escape had pushed Erenne to desperation. She, of course, would  _ never  _ hurt anyone over this. She merely wished to make them back off. “Do.  _ Not. _ Try. To. Stop. Me.” Her tone was grave, voice emphasizing each word in what was now becoming a distinctly  _ Dalish  _ accent as she glared daggers at the gaping herbalists; every last one of them backed away then in fear. 

 

Erenne had been told on multiple occasions that her status as Inquisitor alone would dominate rooms - this, however, did not even remotely count for the merit of how terrifying an angry mage could be.

 

How quickly one could tire of a one-of-a-kind view when on forced bedrest! Erenne felt trapped, useless, and worst of all  _ restless _ . She was tired of bedrest and longed to get back out onto the road. She’d even resorted to  _ memorizing _ the attendee lists for the ball, routes people could take the Halamshiral from nearly all directions, she even started reading some Orlesian translations so she could pick up on some of the language, reading up on profiles of guests at the ball, reading every possible monotonous report that Leliana sent out daily. Erenne had even asked Bull to start teaching her Qunlat just for something else to ponder on! She’d be surprised if the whole lot of them didn’t eventually stop visiting, for all that she pestered them. 

 

She frowned, forehead now resting against the smooth painted wood of the staff when she remembered the relentless dreams she’d been suffering every night. The nightmares that the residual poison presumably plagued her with were..troubling. Lessening now, but troubling all the same. Horrific images of her worst fears painted each night. She found no peace in sleep, perhaps  _ that _ was how they wanted her to die. Exhausted and delirious. Bedridden and helpless. The grim thought sobered her somewhat. Despite all the herbalists’ best efforts, the wound had begun showing signs of infection, which only made them insist on her being on orders to rest. Solas was the one to eventually clear that up and she was feeling stronger --and more restless-- every day. 

 

Crashing of the things she’d knocked over in her struggle to leave and the shouting  _ of course  _ seemed to magically summon both Bull and Solas up the stairs fairly quickly. They never were very far away from her since the ambush. She glared angrily at them both - standing weakly halfway down the stairs in little else but her nightclothes. The air still crackled with her furious energy, her hair had begun to float about her shoulders, as though gravity itself was giving way around her. 

 

What she recognized as wonder crossed his face for a brief moment before Solas frowned disapprovingly at her. “You must rest,  _ Lethallan _ … How will you be well enough for Halamshiral if you do not heal as quickly as possible?” 

 

She grit her teeth. How  _ dare _ he lecture her! “I need to get out of here. I’m  _ Fine _ .” She wavered where she stood directly in spite her words.  _ Damn it. _

 

Bull raised a brow, seemingly unaffected by the blatant display of magic use and her anger. “You’re going to walk around Skyhold in _ that?” _ His tone was all too amused as he motioned vaguely to the thin white silk slip she was wearing. It hid very little - between that and the bandages all over her arms and legs, all of Thedas would have been scandalized at such unladylike behavior. She didn’t give a halla’s ass at this point.  “...Actually, I think I’d like to see that.” Solas shot him a sharp glance, which Bull answered with a naughty grin. Normally, she probably would have laughed at that.

 

“They wouldn’t help me dress.” Erenne said defensively. She felt absolutely impetuous, like an animal pacing her gilded cage. She looked pointedly at Solas. “If you don’t help me, I  _ will _ find another way. You know I will,  _ Lethallin _ .” 

 

Solas put his hands on his hips, glaring at her for a lingering moment and then sighed with exasperation. “Fine, let’s get you changed and Bull can carry you to the Garden for a while. Will that suffice, Inquisitor? I  _ will _ ask that you stay seated while there.” 

 

“Fair enough.” She conceded at last. Bull helped her back up the stairs to help the healers clean up so that one of them could help her dress behind a screen - as if the two men hadn’t already seen her basically in her smallclothes mere minutes before. Erenne rolled her eyes at the propriety of it all. Humans were so worried about modesty and ‘decency’, it was a concept she felt little connection to - she was even considered shameless among her own kind, however. She simply felt it was unnatural to hide what she was or how she looked. 

 

The clothing she was given consisted of a loose white linen tunic that hid her bandages well, some finely woven black Dalish leggings and a warm blue cloak that Solas had insisted she wear to keep her from catching cold on top of everything else.  Erenne knew he had her best interests at heart, and tried to remember that when he hovered too much.

 

Bull picked her up carefully while Solas carried her staff, and they cautiously brought her to the gazebo in the garden. Mother Gisele herded some of the chantry sisters off to the sides of the courtyard to give Erenne some privacy. They’d been keeping her injury quiet outside of Skyhold. Varric ventured out to visit her and regale her with interesting stories about his many adventures in Kirkwall - it was a welcome distraction. Solas departed, then Bull excused himself as well to let her know he would send Cullen to visit her shortly.

 

When Cullen arrived, he looked frazzled, and when he saw her he frowned deeply. “I thought you were ordered to stay in bed.” His tone was stern. 

 

Varric snorted derisively. “Can anyone actually  _ order _ the Inquisitor to do  _ anything _ ?”

 

Erenne rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “Bull carried me here so I wouldn’t have to walk.” She tried to cross her arms, but winced and decided it was best not to. 

 

“What if you reopened your wounds?” This time he sounded more concerned than annoyed. 

 

“Well, I didn’t, so I suppose it’s a moot point, Commander.” Her tone was clipped. She’d been defending herself all day, it seemed.

 

“...I’ll leave you two to your adorable little argument.” Varric said teasingly. “Don’t scandalize the priests with your inevitable lip-locking, now.” They both blushed furiously, and the dwarf walked off with his usual nonchalance. 

 

“...Is this a sign that I need to visit you more?” Cullen said at last, his tone teasing as he sat across from her at the chess table.

 

A smirk quirked her lips, but she still felt rather annoyed. “I need a change of scenery, not more visitors. I can’t walk around Skyhold, but they still bring me reports and expect me to be cognizant enough to make important Inquisition decisions.” She grumbled. 

 

“Bull told me it won’t be too much longer before they release you from bed rest. I think they’re all being extra cautious because we need you in top form for Halamshiral.” Cullen leaned forward, elbows on knees, and propped his chin on his palms as he looked at her. Those deep brown eyes made the Inquisitor shift in her seat - his gaze could sometime be unnerving, and she always felt as though he could see much more than he ever revealed. If he had been a mage, she would have believed the notion that he could. 

 

“You look like you have something on your mind.” Erenne murmured cautiously.

 

“I do. You.”  His voice was firm again, determined.

 

“Care to elaborate?” 

 

“When you’re better, I… I’d very much like to take you somewhere outside of Skyhold if we have time before the ball.”  He smiled genuinely. “I’m sure you’ll welcome the chance to travel.” 

 

She smiled, too, though she knew it didn’t reach her eyes. “They might not let me without guards. I’m surprised you’re even suggesting it.” 

 

“I have Leliana and Varric both working on leads behind the attack. So far, it just seems that those Tevinter agents saw an opening and simply got lucky. There has been no clear Venatori connection that we could discover yet. Perhaps these individuals were going to use it as an audition of sorts for joining their ranks. For all we know, it could have been completely random - but we will remain vigilant. We certainly have just as many enemies as friends.” 

 

She frowned. “If we go, I will want every precaution taken. If we don’t have time before the ball… perhaps after?” Erenne felt like he was asking for more than a simple trip. Suddenly, she wanted him to hold her, to help her forget about the trauma of the last week. “I’m feeling tired… Can you call on Bull for me?” 

 

Cullen’s beautifully scarred lips quirked upwards as he gave her a crooked smirk. “Don’t want me to carry you upstairs..?” 

 

Erenne felt her face grow hot. “I…” She grinned sheepishly. “It’s not that, it’s just… I know you prefer to keep this...whatever we’re doing… quiet.”

 

His smirk faded away into a look of thoughtfulness. “Whatever we’re doing?” 

 

“I don’t quite know how to define our relationship, Cullen..” She said honestly. “I choose to spend my time with you, I have sought no companionship elsewhere since we first kissed, and  I…” She felt lost. “What  _ are _ we doing? Is this just me?” 

 

He rose then, only to kneel before her chair, taking her hand and kissing it as he bowed his head to her. “I care for you a great deal, Erenne…More than I should probably admit.” He said softly. “I’d like to think we’re in a relationship, as you’d said. Neither of us are seeing anyone else, and I’d like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.” 

 

Her cheeks still felt all too warm - was it his presence, or the wounds making her feel hot suddenly? “I care for you too, Cullen, a great deal.” Her own response was softer still, and her voice cracked at the thought of her feelings for him. ”I suppose you’re… what do the  _ shemlen _ say?  My ‘beau’?” She snorted at the use of the term. “What an odd thing to call a lover.” 

 

He kissed at her wrist now, making his way back over her knuckles before she moved her hand to cup his face. “Lover… I like the sound of that.” He rumbled quietly, eyes flicking up to hers.

 

“Then I shall call you that… between us, of course.” She winked at him. “Well! If you don’t mind carrying me up to my chambers,  _ lover _ , I will welcome the assistance... Bull might personally decide to stand guard over me if I try to move about on my own.” 

 

He immediately scooped her up, as though he’d been waiting for her permission. “How’s that? Comfortable?” He cradled her to his chest as he nuzzled her hair affectionately, making her laugh as he kissed her cheek then, and over his shoulder Erenne spotted Mother Gisele amongst the flower bushes, smiling at them approvingly.  It seemed the Revered Mother didn't miss much. Erenne felt like a dainty new bride being carried by her loving husband. The romantic image was something she didn’t find as unwelcome in her mind.

 

“Yes, it's perfect.”   
  


 

* * *

 

 

Solas had made it no secret that he’d ‘scoured texts’, ‘consulted’ with the healers, Madame De Fer, and even supposedly got desperate enough to address Dorian directly. The Tevinter mage infuriated him, and seemed to consistently try to pick fights with him on every possible opportunity ever since he had overheard the fierce argument Solas had with Erenne. 

 

“Well, if  _ you _ weren’t able to find a solution for her, it’s no wonder why you decided to swallow your pride and come to me.” Dorian said smugly. He reached without looking to a shelf near him, taking a green tome with golden details on the spine and cover. “I am no healer, true, but I found this book recently, buried in the incomprehensible mess of this library.” The Tevinter Mage offered the tome to him. 

 

“Do you think it could help?” Solas took the green book and opened it, realizing that it was a Ferelden-based study of Elven healing magicks. This would be the  _ perfect _ cover for his intent.

 

“I doubt it covers anything you haven’t already tried, but it’s worth a look.” He made a face. “I’m giving you this for  _ her _ sake. This is not some attempt at friendship, because to be quite frank I find you to be harmful to any chance at happiness she might have.” 

 

Solas immediately felt himself bristle at the words, however true they might have been. This  _ child _ of Tevinter didn’t know to whom he spoke, none of them did. “Thank you for the book.” He briskly walked away, recognizing with no small amount of satisfaction that Dorian had probably hoped for another argument over Erenne. It was none of his business what went on, or didn’t, between them. 

 

In dreams, he could sense her feelings for him - torn though they were. On numerous occasions, he had been presented with opportunities to be with her - at least in dreams. He could never bring himself to betray her trust in this manner, regardless of his ever-deepening feelings for her. Even if it would have been easy to make her forget. He sighed at the thought, the temptation there was barely within his control. Those soft lips, that lithe body of hers bared in the moonlight… These things haunted his memories. If only he could dream of them forever. 

 

In the waking world, however, he had all but lost her to the Commander. It was better this way, he thought bitterly- knowing that he would have to break her heart one way or another someday. He feared that the day would come all too soon, that perhaps it would even come more quickly than even he had anticipated.

 

Returning then to the room he’d claimed as his own, he carelessly tossed the book on top of the pile of books he’d been ‘reading’ to find stronger healing magic. The truth was, he already knew what needed to be done and was perfectly capable of doing so. Everyone being distracted by her injury was ideal, despite his personal worry for her - it allowed his agents to continue to move freely within the Inquisition more easily during this time. Now, however, he wanted to end her suffering. Despite its conveniences, he very much disliked seeing her in pain - and he had achieved enough of what he needed done by this point. Not to mention, the ball at Halamshiral was going to happen whether the Inquisition was ready for it or not, and he needed to ensure that Erenne could be present and in top form for the peace talks.

 

He lingered for a while, studying some of his paintings and the progress he’d made on one of his mural pieces. Perhaps someday he’d convince Erenne to paint with him again. The thought made him smile somewhat - in all his years, he’d never seen someone so helpless with brush in hand. Thinking of her brought a warmth into his life that he could not remember ever having felt, and with it came an ache that he dearly wished he could stop. He loved her deeply, and yet he knew they could never truly be together - he had to spare her from that pain as well.

 

Solas found his way back up to her chambers again, bringing her some pastries from the kitchen. Seeing her eyes light up when she saw him made him stir. Realizing they weren’t alone, however, he nodded to the healers that had been changing her bandages recently. 

 

“Ladies, could you please clear the room?” He kept his tone polite and they nodded with their  _ ‘yes ser’ _ and  _ ‘yes messere’ _ responses, scurrying out all too eagerly. He’d come to understand that Erenne had become difficult to handle in recent days. 

 

She sat herself up on the bed, her hair tumbled over her shoulders now - and he realized it had been quite some time since she’d asked him to cut her hair. The lovely vision before him wore a flowing blue dress that fanned out beneath her atop the blankets. 

 

Solas nearly stopped and stared at her, she looked so beautiful. Even covered in bandages as she was. Instead, he offered up the tray of sweets to her with a mock bow. “I have come bearing gifts and good tidings, my lady.” He said playfully, keeping his tone smooth. 

 

Her blue eyes lit up further, graciously taking the tray from him as he sat on the edge of the bed, nearer to her now. She smelled of her usual Orlesian lavender-rose soap and he saw now her hair was still drying - she’d just bathed. “Treats  _ and _ good tidings,  _ Lethallin _ ? Is today my lucky day?” She grinned widely at him before popping one of the small pastries in her mouth whole. She let out a joyous sound as she chewed on the flaky pastry. “ _ So _ good.” He words were distorted by the food still in her mouth. It was adorable how eagerly she enjoyed sweets and other surprisingly girlish things. She often surprised him with her feminine tastes.

 

“Yes,  _ da’len. _ ” He used the term often, though she didn’t seem to mind it. Solas had caught himself nearly calling her  _ vhenan _ on too many occasions… it seemed she did hold his heart, after all.  Solas turned himself to face her fully. “I can mend your wounds at last.” 

 

The look on her face was one of awe. “You.. you can?” 

 

He nodded. “Yes, I have found the correct magic to remedy the last of your injuries.” He’d healed other things over time, minor cuts, muscle strains and bruises -- but not the most severe of her wounds. Keeping her confined to chambers and the Advisors distracted was too good of an opportunity for him to pass up on, despite whatever pain he felt for taking advantage. 

 

She searched his face. “Well, then, what do we need to do?”

 

He stood then and made a sweeping motion with his hand. “If you could lay on your back, this will make it easier.” She nodded and obeyed, her somewhat damp hair splayed out beneath her head, the striking blue dress spread out across the blankets and furs she laid upon. “Just relax,  _ da’len _ ….” Solas murmured, his gaze sweeping over her form and resting on her face as he watched her eyes flutter shut. Perfect. “How was your day?” 

 

“It was fine I suppose...I’m rather tired of this room. I spent all day reading the most  _ boring _ reports I think Leliana has ever given me. I miss Tavern food, the damn herbalists won’t let me eat anything they haven’t made themselves.” She complained, continuing to describe her day. He noticed her relaxing a bit more as she spoke.  As she talked, he murmured the words he needed in what he hoped was an indiscernible manner - the last thing he needed was for her to hear the ancient Elven he used. He gently touched the lower areas over her ribcage just beneath her bust, the healing magicks pulsed through his chest, down his arms and into her own body - it felt as though warm running water was running down over his skin in a sense. The air crackled as her own mana reserves responded to his magic use. He smiled as tension seemed to melt from her body and he became intimately aware of many impressions of feelings - aches, pains, relief, and so on as he proceeded to lay hands on the most severe injuries. Finally, came her left shoulder. He leaned over her and placed both hands on that wound.

 

A soft gasp of pain escaped Erenne and he grit his teeth, focusing and pouring his efforts into that wound. A soothing green light emitted from him in his efforts and he became vaguely aware now of lingering damage reversing itself, bone regrowing, muscles knitting back together, and so on. Before long, she looked good as new - aside from the scars. That was a cosmetic magic he did not have time for at the moment. The effort of this powerful magic alone was enough to leave him tired. 

 

“How did you do that? Can you teach me?” 

 

“It unfortunately is something I cannot share or teach.” he replied softly, feeling weaker. This would take several days to recover from. “It is a dangerous spell.” 

 

“Why did you use it, then?” 

 

“Because watching you suffer was far worse than the side effects of an old spell.” His tone was serious, because he was. 

 

“Solas…” Her brow creased. “I.. I don’t know what to say. Other than to thank you.” She sat up slowly, reaching for his hand.

 

He wanted nothing more than to hold that hand, and the rest of her, but he pulled away. He stood uneasily by the bed, head spinning from the energy he’d drained to help her. “Erenne,” He said firmly. And then more softly, “please don’t...” 

 

She looked hurt. “I’m sorry,  _ lethallin. _ I didn’t mean to.” 

 

“If you were to touch me now, I would have to go back on my promise to you.” Solas knew his voice was weak and sad, and he didn’t care. He bared his heart to her still. He couldn’t help it. 

 

The Inquisitor nodded, understanding his plight and showing him all the mercy he did not deserve from anyone, least of all her. She rose from the bed, the  long fabric of the dress now brushed softly against the floor as she walked about barefoot, a look of wonder on her face. “I feel as though I wasn’t injured at all!” She laughed. “Wherever you learned that magic, learn more that you can share next time.” Her grin was wide as she turned from the window to face him. 

 

Warm crepuscular rays of sunlight came through the windows, leaving dappled colors and shapes on her skin from the stained glass and he could see tiny motes of dust floating about in the air. The door to the balcony was open and a pleasant breeze blew through the room in that moment, rustling through the skirts of her dress and her hair. She looked like a sun goddess, bathed in light and color. He found himself stepping closer before stopping himself again. “I will be sure to keep that in mind.” 

 

She watched him, gaze guarded when she realized he’d moved closer. “Thank you, Solas.” She said earnestly. “I do not know that I could ever repay you for all you’ve done for me.” 

 

If only she knew. “This is what friends are for,  _ da’len _ . I am here for you.” He forced a smile and nodded to her. “I think it is safe to say the day is yours now. You should be fine enough to move about as you please.” 

  
“Great, I’m  _ starving _ .” She grinned widely at him. “Let’s go.”


	11. Halamshiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erenne recovers from her injured state. The Commander takes Erenne on a trip. The Inquisition prepares for their journey to the Winter Palace to attend Grand Duchess Florianne and Empress Celene's ball in Halamshiral.

Erenne had busied herself in the days following her recovery- throwing herself back into her duties with abandon. True to her word, she spent as little time in her chambers as was possible. Each night, she spent with a different friend; once in Sera’s room, another night she spent on a makeshift hammock in the barn downstairs from Blackwall, another on one of Vivienne’s couches, and last night she’d spent all night at the tavern, finally passing out in Varric’s favorite chair by the hearth in the main hall- much to the dwarf’s chagrin. She woke up in the middle of the night with a crick in her neck and a sorely bad mood. She finally retired to sleep in the stable stall with her wild Hart, Revas, using him as a warm and furry pillow. The great horned moose-like creature nuzzled her before going back to sleep.

 

The following morning, she took tea and breakfast in her chambers so she could bathe and change clothes, not wishing to do so in the barracks or at the barn. She changed into a rather short dark blue Dalish tunic with a wide leather waist belt that accentuated the curve of her form much like a corset, as well as similarly styled thigh-high leggings and let her damp black hair hang loosely about her shoulders. Erenne strode with purpose down from her room through the halls until she found herself at the door of Cullen’s office.

 

She opened the door and stepped inside. He stood by the window, staring out at the sky. She caught him doing this from time to time - he seemed to find peace when he did this, which was what she knew he needed most. Her silent steps took her to stand before his desk.

 

“Well, good morning.” She said warmly, being near him again made her smile.

 

The ex-Templar turned to look at her. “There you are.” He sounded so relieved when he saw her - pleasantly surprised, even.

 

Erenne raised a brow, hands on hips. “Were you waiting for me, Commander?”

 

“Well, _yes_... I mean no!” Cullen sputtered.

 

 _Now_ , she was curious. “I could always come back _later_ if you like?”

 

“No, please stay.” He sighed, a blush rising more brightly to his cheeks. “We have some dealings in Ferelden. If you can spare some time, I was hoping you might accompany me on the trip. It shouldn’t take long- only a couple of days, really.”

 

Her brow furrowed. He never asked for her to personally join him for these trips. “Is something amiss?” She crossed her arms.

 

“What? No, I…” He rubbed the back of his neck in that cute way he always did whenever he got flustered. “I-I would prefer to explain once there. That is, if you wish to go.”

 

“I can certainly make time for you now. My schedule hasn’t quite filled yet.”

 

He smiled but looked nervous. “I will make the necessary arrangements, Inquisitor.”

 

The trip itself was relatively short, and they brought a full retinue even if the trip had not been planned and no one knew she was joining the group until she met them at the gates.

 

“I called for extra security per your request, Lady Inquisitor.” Cullen had told her in his most professional voice in front of the men, of course. She had smiled at him, mounting Revas effortlessly. Months ago, she had tamed the beautiful purple-furred Hart out in the Hinterlands, much to the shock of her companions. The day she rode Revas back to Haven felt like one of her greatest victories - the mount had such a soulful look and seemed to understand her well now. Erenne always had an affinity for large animals especially, but showed great affection for all creatures and showed them respect, even when hunting them.

 

The entirety of the 'dealings’ he'd had in Ferelden brought them to some area near Honnleath, a military display to reinforce the Inquisition's presence of authority and some dealings with a local Bann. All surprisingly monotonous. Why had he asked her here? Was there something he could not reveal to her, or could it be he simply wanted to spend time with her before the ball as he had asked? It wasn't until that night when Cullen arrived at her tent and requested she accompany him that they were finally alone again.

 

He had brought her out into a wooded area, a mostly grown-over path leading them out to the sound of water lapping upon land. Tall reeds and grasses covered the coast of a small lake. They walked out onto the dock, strewn with piles of netting and rope, piled neatly closer to the land side of the sturdy wooden structure. The silvery moon hung high above it all, bathing all beneath in an almost ethereal light. The night was cool and the breeze slight as he led her across the wooden planks of the dock to lean casually against one of the posts at the end for tying boats and traps to.

 

“What is this place?”  She asked curiously, staring out into the gentle waters before turning to him.

 

“With everything that’s happened… Walking into danger each day, uncertainty and hostility out in the world... I wanted to take you away from that. Even if it’s only for a moment.” He smiled warmly at her. “I grew up not far from here, in Honnleath. It’s always been quiet here.”

 

“Did you spend much time here as a boy?”

 

The Commander looked almost sheepish as he responded. “Yes. I loved my siblings dearly, but they were very loud. I would come here to clear my head- they always tracked me down eventually, of course.” A soft chuckle escaped him.

 

“It sounds like you were happy here.”

 

“I was, and I still am.”

 

“It’s beautiful...” She said softly. The fact that he had brought her here, she realized, meant that he was finally letting her in. Finally giving her a piece of himself and of his past.

 

“It is. The last time I was here was the day I left home for Templar training.” He produced a silver coin embossed with an image of Andraste, holding it out so she could see it. “My brother gave me this… it was just in his pocket, but he said it was for luck and I kept it. Templars aren’t meant to carry personal effects… Our faith should see us through.”

 

She raised a brow, smirking a bit. “You rebel!” She teased. “I’m surprised to hear that _you_ broke the rules, of all people.”

 

He chuckled at that.  “I know.. Not quite the perfect ‘Chantry boy’ you thought, hm?” Cullen held his hand out closer to her. “Humor me.” She accepted the coin, still warm from his grip, examining it closely and holding it in her palm. The Commander stepped closer to her. “We don’t know what might happen in the days to come… A little luck won’t hurt, right?”

 

It took a great deal for her to fight the tears that welled in her eyes. “I will keep it safe for you.” She pocketed the coin, already formulating a plan to wrap it into a necklace the second they got back to Skyhold.

 

“I know it’s rather foolish of me to say so, but... I’m glad.” He pulled her close at last. She melted to his touch as he cupped her cheek and bent to kiss her deeply. A flurry of heat and desire washed over her as his other arm snaked around her waist, keeping her close as they stood alone beneath the watchful eye of the Moon above.  

 

The love she felt for this man welled up inside of her, threatening to overflow into tears of joy. Every day, he proved himself to be more and more the man she truly wanted. Erenne didn’t know what else the future would hold for them or for the Inquisition but as long as he stood by her, that was comfort enough to give her more of the strength she needed to fulfill her duties.

 

 _‘Mythal, all-mother and goddess of love, please watch over us…’_ She prayed silently in his arms. Perhaps Mythal could spare some grace for even a lone Dalish woman as she fell in love with a human man.

Their trip seemed to end all too soon, a small part of her wanted things to never end. The idea of holding him forever and basking in his affection was far too appealing to _not_ daydream of it. When they returned to her tent, he stepped inside at her invitation. The moment the flap closed, Erenne grabbed him by the fur collar of his cloak and pulled him into a heated kiss, leaving them both a breathless mess of blindly wandering hands. The heat she felt, the electricity across her skin whenever he touched her left her sighing against his firm, scarred lips. Her hope had been that he’d finally give in to the spark of fire she felt between them, but he eventually pulled away, cheeks flushed, his breath coming heavier than usual.

 

“Andraste’s mercy, Inquisitor…” He took her hand, kissing it tenderly. “...If I don’t leave now, anyone who saw me come in here will think I’m spending the night in your tent.”  He was still holding back.

 

She had to remember that this was not something she could not demand from him. Instead, she knew she’d have to ask.  “What if I said that I want you to?”

 

His coloring deepened. “Erenne, I… I’d really hate for our first time to be in a tent of all places.” He leaned to kiss her on the lips again, briefly, then looked intensely into her eyes. She suddenly felt bared to him - he always seemed to have that effect on her. “I won’t make you wait too long… Trust me when I say I want this, too. You are just so beautiful, you absolutely take my breath away...” Cullen’s tone became soft and fragile then.

 

She was left speechless upon hearing those words and merely stepped closer to him to kiss him again so she could regain her composure somewhat in the face of this heartfelt confession. “You’d best escape before I order you to stay.”

 

He snorted, amused. “I’d like to see that someday.”

 

“Don’t tempt me.”

 

He cupped her cheek for a moment, smiling. “Good night, Inquisitor.”

 

“Good night, Commander.” She watched him step out into the cool night air, off to his own tent.  She found herself left with a strange sense of emptiness - irrational fears suddenly gnawing at her mentality.  The silence was deafening. To distract herself, she decided to attempt to sleep.

 

She was standing in the middle of an Orlesian street in the rain, colorful banners above barely blocking the icy cold droplets. The sense of foreboding there was unlike anything she’d felt in recent memory - a raw, unbound sorrow and a gurgling fear, seeping up from the ground and into her skin until it consumed her. Erenne--or a version of her-- lay huddled on the ground, curled in a pathetic ball of cowardice. What was this vision, she wondered? The Inquisitor then had the sense that she was watching this all happen to her body from a great height - and she felt nothing, not like how she felt the other Erenne.

 

 _“Mana...Ma malani…”_ She croaked, suddenly feeling as though she was the one that was suffering deeply instead - the pain of it wracked her body. Poison. _“Ma m-mel..ava halani…Harellan…”_ choking on what looked like black bile now, she watched as the dream Erenne lay prone; the wicked, long dagger in her back now held by the wickedly gauntleted hand of a black-cloaked figure…She was _dying_ , and this figure was a betrayer.

 

She awoke screaming before she could see who it had been. Her cot and night clothes were soaked in sweat. The shout brought several guards to her tent.

 

“Inquisitor? You alright in there?”

 

She gasped, clutching her chest in pain as though the thing choking the life from her had been truly real. “Yes, I’m fine, back to your posts.” She raised her voice so he could hear. If he wasn’t convinced, she wouldn't have been surprised.

 

“If you need anything...let us know. We go back to Skyhold in the morning.” the soldier said, respectfully staying out of the tent.

 

It seemed this night was destined to be a long one.  


 

* * *

 

Cullen wondered all night if he had made the wrong choice, denying Erenne as he had. He hadn’t wanted to pull away from her- but he had a code that he always adhered to, and no amount of lust should sway him from setting an example as a leader. Even if he desired nothing more than to be with the Inquisitor; to hold her in his arms all through the night, to feel every inch of her body with his own hands and show her _just_ how much he longed for her. That last thought kept him up even longer than he’d intended.

 

The next morning, his regret was solidified. Erenne was acting strangely and seemed eager to return to Skyhold as quickly as possible. She clearly feigned her smiles and pleasantries to him on some level - her voice was strained, and she seemed distracted. Most of all, she looked tired. Had she stayed up all night?

 

The ride back was tense for him. Erenne barely spoke to him and was formal when she did, though that was likely because they were in public. The moment they got into the gates, she dismounted and handed the reigns to the nearest stablehand, walking off briskly from the traveling party, saying nothing. Solas was already waiting for her at the gates as if he had known precisely when they would arrive.  She immediately went to his side and began speaking quickly to him in their native tongue.

 

Solas looked concerned, and led her away, deeper into the courtyard so they could speak more privately. Cullen couldn’t help but overhear as he caught up to her.

 

“It was so _real_ , Solas. What could it mean?” Cullen heard her say in a hushed tone to him. “I was….terrified.”

 

“It could have merely been what it was; a dream. Being a mage, you have them all the time, _da’len._ ”

 

“Not like this. Never like this...except with you.”

 

Cullen felt as tense as Solas’ silence was in response to those words. What did _that_ mean?

 

“The dreamwalking we practice is not a common art that just anyone can do, Inquisitor. Our shared dreams are unique and do not bleed… I doubt it was anything so advanced as that.” They shared _dreams_ together? He had never heard of such magic. This explained so much of why they were close as they were. They shared their time awake and in slumber; the realization did not sit well.  Cullen rounded the corner as Solas touched her shoulder in an all-too-familiar gesture. Jealousy gnawed at the nape of his neck at the sight of her looking up at him for guidance. “I say it was probably just a nightmare. You’ve been through so much recently...you should take some time to yourself. Let’s discuss this again after you’ve had time to reflect and revisit” When Solas spotted Cullen, he immediately removed his hand. “Welcome back, Commander.”

 

“Thank you, Solas.”

 

Erenne turned to Cullen, a smile gracing her lips at last as that previously concerned look faded from her features. “Commander, my apologies for running off on you there - may I walk with you up to the tower? I wanted to discuss something with you.”

 

This was a surprise. “Of course, Inquisitor.” He allowed her to lead the way after saying farewell to the other Elf. When they climbed the stairs to the battlements outside his tower, she turned to him, a strange look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I need to apologize to you.” She said, regret in her tone. “I was not at all attentive to you during our travels today. I had some disturbing nightmares last night and did not sleep much after you left.” She reached for his hand, grasping it lightly in her own. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not upset with you for your departure.”

 

Relieved, he smiled at her. “You don’t need to apologize, Inquisitor. I think you’ve seen me out of sorts enough times that I’m owed a few experiences of the same from you at this point.”

 

She laughed wryly. “That’s more comforting than you’d think..” The implication of her tone was surprisingly dark-- he hadn’t really expected that.

 

“I am always here for you.” Was all he could muster in response.

 

“Does that mean you will also be coming to Halamshiral with us?”

 

Cullen cringed slightly. “Well… Yes. I will be there. I suppose we can commiserate at our mutual distaste for these social events.”

 

“Well, at least there’s that.”

 

The preparations for the ball in the following days and weeks kept them almost completely apart from each other outside of the War Council meetings. Erenne was entirely too busy preparing for the ball with Josephine and Leliana - she’d even been receiving some stealth tips from Leliana for gathering information while there.

 

It wasn’t until the day before the ball when he was told by an apologetic Josie that his men would _also_ have to accommodate a carriage for the Inquisitor that he realized she had opted not to wear the formal attire the rest of them had been subjected to. Between that decision and her increasing security concerns, she insisted that a carriage was the preferred method of transportation for this particular journey. He had to scramble to make arrangements. It was the first time in recent memory that he felt frustrated by Lavellan’s decisions. Many dresses, jewels, and other gifts arrived at Skyhold from various allies or upstarts wishing to impressed Inquisitor Lavellan. Some even came with proposals of courtship or offers to be her dance partner straightaway at the ball.

 

Of course, Leliana personally inspected each and every gift prior to allowing them anywhere near Erenne.  The spymaster had teasingly shown him several of the dresses that arrived, each of them exquisite. Any of them would look lovely on her.

 

“Could you imagine the Inquisitor dressed in such finery?” She quipped, a glint in her eyes.

 

Cullen rolled his eyes a bit. What sort of question was _that?_ “I... can. I suppose.”

 

“Wait until you see the dress she chose… You might have no choice but to _propose_ before every other man in Thedas does.”

 

The Commander felt the heat of his blush color his face. _Propose?!_  “I--Well…. Uh…. That is…” He sputtered for words.

 

Leliana laughed aloud and covered her mouth as she did so, the sound was a mixture of amusement and polite Orlesian cruelty.

 

Cullen scowled at her. “I’m just going to go now before you torture me any further.”  He strode back down the stairs and off to complete the final preparations for the trip.

 

At last, it was finally nearly time to leave for Halamshiral, all of the fanfare and banners were present. All of the soldiers of their retinue were dressed formally. The advisors and companions all were to ride horses separate from the carriage. Cassandra, The Iron Bull, and Solas were all slated to accompany the Inquisitor. Cullen waited in the courtyard with everyone else, waiting to get on with this trip that he’d been dreading so much. Horses knickered and whinnied occasionally, growing as eager to move along.  Josie left the main hall of Skyhold first, trailing down the stairs and whispering something excitedly to Leliana.

 

Then, he saw her. Erenne stood at the summit of the stairs looking out over the courtyard levels dressed in an ethereal-looking dress that might have been dreamed up from a fairy tale.  She descended the stairs so gracefully as they witnessed her beauty. Her long cape was a shroud of deep blue sheer material with what looked like golden discs sewn into it, and the dress itself was made of fine silks embroidered and painted in a distinctly Dalish style. She had a high-necked golden collar around her neck which covered her shoulders as well - the metal glinted brilliantly in the sun. The dress itself had a deep plunging neckline and high slits in several places, the length of the dress were essentially wide strips of embroidered silk. A wide lighter blue sash that matched his own was tied tightly around her midsection, accentuating the curve of her supple body. Cullen caught some of the soldiers staring, too, before he barked orders at them to finish preparations, sending them rushing on their way. He’d also noticed Solas and Bull staring, though there was little he could do about that.

 

She arrived amongst them at last, smiling sheepishly. “My apologies for the delay. Are we all ready to get underway?” She put a hand on her hip, wrists jingling merrily with golden bangles as she leaned on her staff somewhat.

 

It took him a beat to realize she was speaking directly to him. He blushed, stiffening and standing more formally. “Yes, Inquisitor. We’re ready to go.”

 

She raised a brow at him. “Very good, Commander.” She turned to the rest of them, nodding appreciatively. “Wow. You all look quite good in the uniforms Josie picked.”  By the look on Josephine’s face in response to that statement, he could tell she had not been _entirely_ pleased with the Inquisitor’s decision to wear something different from the rest of them, but of course relented one way or another.

 

“You look like a goddess or somethin’, Boss.” Bull said appreciatively. “Save this one, hm?”

 

She snorted. “Why?”

 

His single eye’s gaze flicked to Cullen. “Oh, I’m sure the Commander can give you a reason.”  His tone was nonchalant.

 

Solas rolled his eyes and interjected before either of them could get too flustered by the Qunari’s bold statement. “ _Da’len_ , you look positively radiant. I must say, you are quite the seamstress.” His tone was warm as always towards her.

 

“Wait… You _MADE_ that dress?!” Josephine gasped - a rather unusual outburst. “I mean...I… Wow.”

 

Erenne grinned at the Antivan woman. “Not sure if you realize this, but I _do_ worship Sylaise. Part of my training as First was to practice the domestic arts as a result. Merely an activity as part of paying homage to the Hearthkeeper.”

 

“That is a very professional looking dress for being ‘merely an activity’, Inquisitor.” Leliana quipped. “You should give yourself more credit. I had no idea you were so talented!”

 

Cullen was equally flabbergasted.  “I know nothing about fashion, but I am certainly impressed.” He said in amazement.

 

Erenne’s modest blush in response was more than enough to make his desire stir. His stomach tightened at the words she spoke. “Thank you, Commander.”

 

Before long and after some more chatting, they were on their way to the Winter Palace. The Inquisitor allowed no one else into the Carriage, saying she needed extra time to ‘study up’ on the nobility. As if she hadn’t spent most of her time stuck in bed reading up on exactly that.

 

When they arrived, dusk had settled over the land. Inquisition soldiers lined the walkway as Erenne and the rest of their retinue strode to the courtyard gates. Duke Gaspard looked at her with appreciation as they made their formal introductions. To Cullen’s surprise, she absolutely charmed him. To his dismay, the whispers of _knife ear_ and _Elven filth_ behind their backs seemed to go unnoticed, unchallenged. He had to bite his tongue and refrain from calling them out on their bigotry.

 

They entered the court to be announced behind Duke Gaspard.

 

“Lady Inquisitor Erenne Lavellan -  Great Liberator of the Rebel Mages of Ferelden, Herald of the Blessed Andraste herself & First of Clan Lavellan.”

 

The rest of the announcements, including his own, were much less dramatic.  They said their greetings to the Empress--who offered most gracious compliments on Erenne’s dress-- and moved onwards into their investigation, mingling and keeping their eyes and ears open for the right sort of information. Meanwhile, he was being swarmed by admiring Orlesians asking him to dance, and if he was single, and if he would join them ‘somewhere more private’. Many such offers were made - as if he didn’t feel awkward enough just _being_ in the Palace.

 

The Inquisitor quickly figured out many secrets about the palace making strides towards finding the culprit, he knew she’d succeed. After some time and making many practiced declines to dance, the Inquisitor approached him again. She strode towards, the long translucent wisp of a cape trailing behind her as she parted the crowds on her way. Erenne’s chin was tilted up with confidence as she moved through the throngs of people. Instead of a mask, she wore a golden circlet crown that matched the golden armor-like piece around her neck and shoulders. If _anyone_ looked like an empress this evening, it was the Inquisitor. Someone made her pause as they addressed her and she smiled coyly, covering the action with her hand slightly, the gold bangles on her wrist jingling brightly. It wasn’t long, though, before she reached him.

 

The Orlesian admirers nearby all stared at her with an interesting mixture of desire and what he could only guess was jealousy. Many must have expected the _savage knife-eared Inquisitor_ to lose much court favor- but instead, she was demanding it from the court and succeeding brilliantly.

 

“Inquisitor… Did you need something?”

 

The Inquisitor’s nose twitched somewhat, as though she were restraining herself from making a face. “You seem to have gathered _quite_ a crowd about yourself, Commander. Who are all these people?”

 

He stiffened. “I honestly don’t know, but they will _not_ leave me alone.”

 

“How unfortunate for you.” She grinned teasingly. “Don’t like the attention, then?”

 

“Absolutely not.” Cullen found himself saying, perhaps a little more gruffly than he’d intended - he cleared his throat while she raised a quizzical brow at him. “Yours is the only attention worth having...” He added, stepping somewhat closer so she could hear him more easily.

 

“How sweet..” She replied, adjusting his sash slightly. “Save me a dance, then, _lover_?” Her voice a soft tone meant only for his ears.

 

The words seemed to trigger an automatic response. “No, Thank you.”  He said with no thought at all

 

The hurt in her eyes was clear. “Oh. Alright.”

 

“Maker’s breath, I’m sorry, I --” He sighed. “I’ve been saying that so many times tonight, I didn’t even think.”  He rubbed the back of his neck slightly before scrubbing his gloved hand over his stubble, trying to find some relief in the action. “...I am really not one for dancing.”

 

She nodded, understanding, though clearly disappointed. Knowing that he had let her down made his chest ache. “As you say, then. Carry on and stay alert.” She could not hide her feelings in her tone.

 

* * *

 

The night had been far too long. While she had been victorious, completely discrediting Grand Duchess Florianne, banishing Gaspard, and raising up Empress Celene at last - she did not _feel_ victorious. The festivities now in full swing, Erenne felt suffocated - so she escaped to a lone balcony to stare out at the lands of Halamshiral, and up at the moon high in the sky. The sound of music and merriment floated through the open door faintly. She often wished she could simply forget her troubles and join them all in the fun. It was rare that she was able to do so. AT some point, Morrigan had come to visit and inform her that she would meet them at Skyhold, and as she left, the Commander approached.

 

She continued to stare out into the starry sky numbly, wanting nothing more than to return to Skyhold.

 

“There you are! Everyone has been looking for you. Unsurprisingly, you’re all anyone can talk about.” He chuckled for a moment, before seeing the look on her face. He sobered immediately. “Are you alright? I was worried for you tonight.”

 

She closed her eyes then. “It was...difficult.” When he touched her shoulder, she relaxed somewhat. Erenne felt safe with him, she realized, as she turned to look at him. The music inside the palace died down for a moment and then swelled again, a popular tune for couples.

 

He looked thoughtful then, stepping away. “I might never get another chance like this, Erenne, so I must ask you…” He smiled at her then so warmly, she felt a blush rise to her cheeks as he half-bowed to her, extending a hand. “May I have this dance, my Lady?”

 

The joy that coursed through her at the question must have been apparent based on the slight twinkle she saw in his eyes. “Yes, of course.” She said, surprised. “I thought you didn’t dance, Cullen?” Erenne placed her hand in his.

 

He pulled her close to him into what she felt was a fine position for dancing. “For you, I will try.”

 

At first, she could tell he was concentrating on the count of the steps, but soon enough he got the hang of it. He wasn't a bad dancer at all, she had seen much worse at the ball- though dancing amongst the Dalish was different.

 

As they danced about the balcony, she couldn't imagine feeling happier than she was right then in what felt like too long. She looked up at him, smiling. “Relax, lover… you're doing fine.” She murmured soothingly.

 

He smiled slightly. “Really? I think you're the one making me look good here.” He leaned closer to her, and glancing behind him as they turned she realized they had an audience of other attendees who had been hoping to escape into the night air and lingered outside for the scandalous view of the Dalish Inquisitor dancing rather close to her human Commander. Alone. There would most certainly be talk.

 

 _‘Let them gossip.’_ She thought proudly.

 

Seemingly oblivious to the onlookers, he kissed her sweetly as the song began to die down, then twirled her about making her dress flare, golden accents glittering in the moonlight. He brought her back to him as the song ended and bowed to her like the noble soul that he was.

 

“I'll have to take you to these more often, Commander.” She said, laughing.

 

He kissed her hand before standing straight. “So long as they are the type where I get to spend more time with you… Abandoning me to the Orlesians was not fun.” He smiled, but it faltered when he realized they weren’t alone any longer.

 

Bull pushed through the throng as politely as a giant Qunari could in order to join them on the balcony. “Having fun Boss?”

 

Erenne grinned at him. “Of course. Did you want to dance, too? That’ll _really_ scandalize the court.”

 

He smirked back. “I would love to, Josephine might faint though.”

 

“I danced with Florianne and no one batted an eye.” She said, sighing.

 

“You go have fun, Inquisitor,” Cullen said reassuringly, touching her shoulder. “I need to begin preparing the men to head back to camp for tonight. We leave for Skyhold in the morning.”

 

“Good. Thank you, Commander.”

 

When he departed, Bull offered his arm to her, which she took with a smile. Finally, the onlookers had either moved on or moved out onto the balcony now that nothing _juicy_ was happening out there. Her favorite Qunari led her back inside to the throngs of partygoers and stayed close.

 

“Have you gotten a better read now that the guests have loosened up?”

 

“Of course, and you’ll have a full report when we get back to Skyhold tomorrow.”

 

“Good.” He was leading her to the dance floor with his usual flair for confidence. Another song was just beginning and they seamlessly found their place in the crowded room. Some, of course, gawked at them behind masks and fans. He led the dance so confidently and was a surprisingly good dancer - she hadn’t quite expected that from him. Never once did it feel awkward, despite their rather obvious size difference. When the song ended, she saw Solas watching them from above. Bull accompanied her up the stairs to the ballroom overlook and excused himself to go find more food.

 

The taller elf smiled genuinely at her, bowing slightly in greeting. “You seem to be having fun, Inquisitor.”

 

“As do you.” She countered lightly. “I can’t recall the last time I’ve seen you in such a good mood.”

 

People cheered below, signaling that the last dance was about to be played.  He offered his hand to her. “Before the music stops, dance with me _da’len_.” His voice was firm, confident. Solas was a man who knew what he wanted if nothing else.

 

His boldness surprised her, but she took his hand. What was a dance between friends? He led her to another balcony, this one empty and they danced as the last song floated through the air, fainter now. He held her close, perhaps too close, but she never felt uncomfortable with him.

 

“You’re a wonderful dancer. Where did you learn?”

 

He smiled knowingly. “I’ve seen a great many dances, Inquisitor. One can learn a thing or two from observing.”

 

“How mysterious of you.” She teased as he dipped her low then, their faces mere inches from one another. The urge she felt to kiss him then was surprising, but she refrained - blaming it on the wine. She didn’t love him, not like Cullen. They perhaps had chemistry, and maybe in another life, she could have fallen for the elegant elven man she’d grown to cherish so much - but not in this life. He knew it, too.

 

“Perhaps someday I will tell you about it.” He righted them both again, their gliding dance continuing.

 

“I’d like that, _Lethallin._ ” She said softly as he pulled her closer. “What do you think we might do, when all this is over?”

 

“We must defeat Corypheus before we can talk about that, I think.”

 

“You’re right. I hope you decide to stay.” He twirled her then and when she turned back to where he’d stood, he was gone. His arms enveloped her from behind in a brief hug as the song ended before letting go. This was very much unlike him, though she didn’t comment on it- not wanting to ruin the moment.

 

“I believe the Commander is ready for us to depart. We shouldn’t dally.” His smile was sad.

 

They returned to the vestibule to meet up with the rest of their party before departing to their camp. Empress Celene had invited them to stay at the Winter Palace as guests of honor, but Erenne politely declined, she’d had more than enough of this place for a lifetime.

 

The camp was in the outskirts of Halamshiral, a safe distance from the palace pre-approved by the Empress herself. Erenne immediately retired to her tent, but not before summoning the Commander there.

 

He smiled at her when he arrived, seeing that she was still in her finery. “You are quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His voice was so earnest and true it made her blush.

 

“Perhaps you can spare a helping hand for ‘the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen’, then?”

 

He looked her over a moment as if gauging her seriousness. It was not often that she requested him to personally do things for her. “Of...Course, my Lady.” He stepped closer. “What is it you need of me?”

 

“I need help with the dress.”

 

Cullen leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Andraste preserve me, you _are_ a temptress.” He licked his lips before standing straight. “Turn around, then.”

 

When she obeyed, he pressed the small mechanism that released the armor piece she wore. He lifted it away and set it gingerly on her cot. He deftly removed the cloak next, most of her back and shoulders now bared to him. The heated intake of breath that followed his action let her know that he was _definitely_ paying attention now. Next came the bangles on her wrists, which he gently removed and set aside one by one, kissing the backs of her wrists once they were bare. At last, the sash around her waist remained and she turned to him, looking up at him with as much obvious desire as she could muster.

 

“I know you don’t want our first time to be in a tent...but that doesn’t mean you can’t hold me for a little while, does it?”

 

In response, his hands carefully went to the sash at her waist and pulled it away, unwrapping her like a gift. Once gone, the dress still covered her though it was slightly more loose than it was before. “I would love nothing more than that right now.” He said softly, pulling her near.

 

“Cullen…”

 

“Yes, Inquisitor?”

 

“Kiss me.”  And he did. They held each other and kissed until they fell asleep on her cot together. When she awoke the next morning, he had gone.


	12. The Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-awaited night comes at last, and two lovers are swept up in the passion of new love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter mostly written out from the beginning, but so much has changed since I initially wrote it that I pretty much scratched and re-wrote the whole thing XD I hope you all enjoy!

**_A Few Weeks Later..._ **

 

The crisp morning air greeted Erenne as she strode the walkway leading to Cullen’s office. It was early yet, though she hadn’t seen him at breakfast in the main hall, to her chagrin. He often worked well into the night or early morning, something she had scolded him for on several occasions. Perhaps it would be time to formally order him to get some sleep one of these days.  She hesitated at the door, but gathered her nerves and stepped in as usual - what did she have to fear? Things had been going wonderfully with the Commander, though the steady slowness was getting difficult for her - she wanted him so badly.

 

There he was, as usual, sitting at his sturdy wooden desk while seemingly brooding over a report. When she closed the door behind herself, his gaze shifted up to spot her and his expression melted into one of warmth. And by warmth, that is that his cheeks grew immediately red. What exactly was on the ex-Templar’s mind, she wondered? 

 

“Uh, Inquisitor! Ah - good morning.” He stammered in his adorable, almost innocent way.

 

“Good morning, Commander.” She replied smoothly, striding up to his desk, perching herself on the corner of it.

 

“What can I do for you this morning?” His tone was inviting as those contemplative brown eyes trailed hungrily over her form - it sent a thrill through her.

 

_ ‘You can start by ripping my clothes off and taking me on your desk’,  _ she thought to herself wryly. Aloud, she said; “You know… We don’t have any meetings today.” 

 

“Oh? We don’t?” His tone was light and surprisingly teasing. Clearly, he had their schedule in mind as well. 

 

“I was thinking we could spend time together if you like?” 

He smiled that crooked smile of his. She loved when he did so, it was always a welcome change from his usual glowering. “I would really enjoy that.” 

 

They found themselves walking along the battlements, then down to the courtyards amongst the faithful pilgrims and soldiers. Eventually, they found themselves walking the gardens together, talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying being together. 

 

“I am so pleased we’re getting this chance today. A break for us both is so rare without scheduling it in advance.” She said softly as they sat down in the chairs they had played chess in. They were taking a short break with some tea for them both, and of course, there were sweets for the Inquisitor which the Commander had declined. She had learned early on he did not share her love for sugary treats.

 

“As am I… “ He cleared his throat suddenly, looking uncomfortable. “Inquisi--” He stopped short, correcting himself. “Uh-- Erenne..?” His sudden correction was unusual - he  _ normally _ only used her name when in private.

 

“Yes, Cullen?” She felt apprehensive suddenly. 

 

“I would be honored if you joined me for dinner this evening.” His voice suddenly seemed to hold more confidence, a confidence that sent a shiver up her spine. She could feel herself stir for him. This was unexpected but entirely pleasant. 

 

“Yes,  I would love to.” There was no hesitation for her in this, she wanted this. She wanted  _ him _ .

 

He smiled fully this time and she just about felt her smallclothes melt at the sight.  _ Creators, _ he was handsome. “Meet me in the tower at sunset.” He said softly, and they both stood from their seats. Cullen took her hand then and bowed slightly to kiss it. “I look forward to seeing you there, my Lady Inquisitor.” His touch sent a shiver up her spine and he obviously noticed this, because his smile turned into more of a sly smirk. Not so much the innocent Chantry boy, indeed.

 

When they parted ways again, she immediately went to Vivienne, panicked with indecision. She had never in her life felt this nervous about seeing a man before. Erenne had always been confident in love but now that she felt her desire coming within reach she felt as innocent as the day she was born.

 

“But.. _what do I_ _wear_ , Viv?” She groaned. 

 

“Darling, if I were you I would wear something that’s easy to take off.” She chuckled. “Your dear Commander may be a public stickler for propriety, but he is still  _ a man _ . If he doesn’t want to bed you tonight, he’s an idiot.” The dark-skinned First Enchanter lounged on the chaise in her small reading nook near her bed. They did not agree on political matters of how mages should be governed but had become friends regardless. Erenne, of course, advocated for the liberation of mages, while Vivienne--as leader of the ‘Last Loyal Mages of Thedas’-- very openly desired a reinstatement of the Circle of Magi.

 

“Creators… This may really happen.” The thought made her nervous all over again.  She’d begun aimlessly bunching the blanket’s fabric in her fists. 

 

“All the more reason to wear that dress I brought you from Val Royeaux last month, and some of the lingerie we got on our last trip there together.” Vivienne retorted with a sly smile. 

 

Erenne grinned too, feeling more confident. “Thank you, Viv, that’s a great idea.”

 

The Inquisitor found her way back downstairs, humming a happy tune she’d heard in the tavern with a mind to go spend what time she had left before her rendezvous with the Commander grooming and getting ready. The thought made her giddy, and a giggle escaped her as she stepped out into the main hall.

 

“Huh.  _ Someone’s _ in a good mood, or are you just that happy to be in the presence of my greatness?” Varric winked at her, that usual smirk playing at his lips.

 

Erenne couldn’t contain her sheepish grin. “I am always happy to see you, Varric… But my reasons today are my own.”

 

“Oh,  _ are they _ your own?” He mused aloud. “Does it happen to have something to do with the fact that you and Curly have been traipsing around all day, holding hands and giving each other puppy eyes?”  The surprise on her face was confirmation enough for him, apparently. He chuckled. “I must say, I did not expect you to choose the Commander.”

 

Her brow furrowed for a moment. “Why?”

 

“Curly’s pretty and all, but… I always thought you’d have picked someone more...fun, maybe?” 

 

How amusing. She couldn't help but chuckle at that. “Like who?” 

 

“Well, Bull was getting impatient for your Commander to finally make a move. He was definitely gearing up to kidnap you from your chambers and drag you to his room  _ again _ ... so probably him. Or Chuckles, since the two of you are usually attached at the hip.” 

 

Was he serious?  This elicited a louder, more incredulous laugh. “Well, we will see how tonight goes.” 

 

“I don’t want to spoil his plans for you, but I  _ will _ say he’s already organizing your little dinner. One of the servants tipped me off.” 

 

“Thanks for the tip.” She grinned wolfishly at him. “See you later, Varric.” 

 

Varric’s gruff laugh echoed in the large hall. “Go easy on the poor man, Inquisitor.” 

 

Erenne spent the rest of the afternoon calming her unusually frazzled nerves by bathing, putting on makeup and spending  _ far  _ too long deciding on what to wear - until, of course, she decided to merely listen to Vivienne after all. As if Cullen hadn’t seen her in all manner of clothing at this point, why was she placing so much importance on this? She chastised herself for her foolishness.

 

At last, the time of their meeting drew close. Erenne strode along the shortest possible route to the tower. Unfortunately, her outfit was  _ absolutely  _ noticed and received several compliments - and questions came with those compliments. Where was she going? Who was she seeing? Was this how she always dressed when not in public? Who designed such a gorgeous garment?

 

The dress, though by no means overly extravagant, was beautiful. The bodice hugged her torso and flared out at her hips. The garment itself had long sleeves and had a delicate black silk and lace bodice, the trim of which was also lace, creating little floral details over her bare skin. The hemline of the gown that stopped just at her ankles. A low cut back showed  _ just enough _ skin without being scandalous. Matching black slippers and silken stockings adorned her feet and she wore all of her earrings, which sparkled at her earlobes. She felt elegant in the outfit and found herself filled with anticipation as she made her way. 

 

She half-guiltily passed through the room Solas claimed as his own. To her relief, he was nowhere to be seen on her entrance. Erenne didn’t dare linger, making her escape quickly to the door that led toward Cullen’s office.

 

The walkway to the tower was dotted with small candles, giving it an almost magical quality. Eyes full of wonder, she ventured forth, the smell of food urging the Inquisitor onwards to her destination.  When she reached the door, she decided to knock this time, not wanting to spoil any of his hard work.

 

When the Commander answered the door, she found him standing in the doorway wearing  _ clothing, _ not armor or formal wear. The sight of it nearly made her speechless at first. He wore a simple white shirt with brass buttons, black pants, and boots- she had never seen him in anything but the Inquisition formal wear and his usual armor. Seeing him like this was... a  _ very  _ nice change. 

 

Cullen’s eyes widened when he took in her outfit, sending a little thrill through her. He took a brief moment before speaking as though he were taking her in. “You look beautiful, my lady.” his cheeks darkened somewhat. 

 

It was  _ her _ turn to blush this time. “And you look quite handsome…  Here I was, expecting that the only thing in your wardrobe was armor.” 

 

He chuckled. “Very funny. Come in, come in..” He opened the door wider and she stepped aside to allow her to enter the room. The inside of his office had been transformed into a cozy dining area with candles everywhere, a fire in the hearth, food on the table, and she realized he’d been holding a small bouquet of roses from the garden. Mother Giselle must have gotten those for him and that thought alone filled her with such warmth - he was wonderful.  When he held them out toward her, he looked sheepish almost. “These are for you.” His words were gentle. 

 

His manners, the flowers, everything about this made her heart swell. “Thank you, Commander.”  She accepted the flowers gratefully, taking in the subtle scent of them.

 

“Perhaps we should dispense with titles this evening?” His tone was light.

 

A smile quirked her red-painted lips. “I would like that, Cullen.”

 

“Alright, then, Erenne.” He seemed to like saying her name even if he almost never did so because that beautiful smile crossed his handsomely chiseled features once again. He shut the door behind her and strode over to the table to pull her chair out for her. 

 

“Ever the gentleman...Thank you.” She quipped, seating herself in the chair he indicated. He poured them a sweet Antivan port and she recognized the label as her favorite vineyard. How did he know?  “Dare I ask how you organized all this?” Erenne motioned with a sweeping hand to the extravagant little feast. Venison, vegetables, bread, wine, and… was that  _ dessert _ waiting on his desk? She didn’t look too hard, not wanting to get ahead of herself.

 

He chuckled softly, that breathy voice of his was enough to make her swoon like a young girl in the midst of her first unrequited love. “Calling upon many favors owed, among other things.” He offered her a glass which she gratefully accepted and took a long sip from, savoring the fruity sweetness of it. “Admittedly… I would have preferred to take you somewhere outside of Skyhold, but it is such a rare occasion for us to both have a day off and we never  _ truly _ know when these days will come.” He sat across from her at the small table.

 

She reached across the short distance, taking his hands in hers. “True enough, and this is truly lovely.” 

 

“It makes me very happy to hear you said that.” He said softly, giving her hands a light squeeze. Letting go of her after a few fleeting moments, he dished out their food and they began to enjoy the meal. Everything was perfect, and she marveled at it all.  They talked about everything  _ except for _ Inquisition business - past experiences and stories, asking one another questions about their lives, and of course, flirting... It was a much-needed respite for them both. 

 

“You know,” Cullen said, using those intense eyes to look her over again. “I still can’t get over how beautiful you looked at the Winter Palace.” 

 

She felt a sheepish smile creep across her lips. “Oh? Why’s that?” 

 

“Because I got to watch everyone in that ball admire you with nearly as much ferocity as I do.” His words surprised her in an unusual display of forwardness. 

 

“That’s very flattering to hear..” She said softly. “I am pleased to know that our feelings are mutual.” 

 

Once they’d finished the bottle of wine, he leaned onto the table somewhat, his chin propped against his fist. The look in his eyes was almost unreadable, save for a thoughtful glint in his eyes.  That look was something she recognized in him, he often got that look when he wanted to kiss her. 

 

He seemed more relaxed than usual, but there was something coiled tightly about him too, a hardness that never really went away- only exaggerated by that look of his Erenne shifted beneath that smoldering gaze and he seemed to take in every movement, every detail of her. She felt pinned by it, well within the clutches of those big, strong hands of his.

 

Oh, his hands… that night after the Grand Ball when he held her close nearly all through the night. Memories bubbled to the surface, making her shift in her seat again.  The silence that fell was not uncomfortable, but the sparks she felt around them were strong.

 

At last, he spoke.  “I must admit, I -“ He took a moment. “Was very nervous when I asked you here tonight.” 

 

Her eyes widened. Him too? Even after all of the time they’d been spending together?  “Why do you say that?” 

 

“You’re the Inquisitor, darling.” He said softly. “You shake the world with every choice you make, and I know that our relationship is technically… improper.” Cullen’s mouth quirked slightly before running a hand over his stubble - a habit of his that she had grown to adore. “I am the Commander of your armies, an ex-Templar, an addict, I- how could you-” He sighed, frustrated.

 

“I don’t care about any of that, Cullen.” She said firmly but calmly. “I care about  _ you _ … The fact that someone as wonderful as you could care for a mage, a  _ Dalish _ one at that, is something far beyond I could have ever hoped for when we met.” 

 

“Truly?”

 

“Yes, lover. Truly. For a time, I had feared my efforts to get you to see me would be in vain.” She looked down at her empty wine glass. “I thought I might not be good enough for you.”

 

He stood, then, taking her hand and pulling her out of her chair into an embrace that made her want to melt into him. No words, all action, he cupped her cheek and drew close until their lips nearly touched. Icy blue eyes met golden-brown and she gave in to the desire that had filled her for far too long. She shivered.

 

She felt hot and weak suddenly, the single strangled word she managed to utter was “ _ Please _ …” 

 

Wordlessly, he pulled her closer against his body and leaned to catch her lips with his own. His rough stubble sent tingles across her skin. His mouth was hot and insistent, possessive even, as his strong, calloused hands tangled in her hair. She clung to him as though she might never get this chance again. 

 

She could feel his slowly growing excitement straining against the confines of his trousers and her dress. A soft moan escaped her and it only spurred him onwards. His free hand trailed down her exposed back. After a few heated moments of surrendering to his touch, he slowly pulled back from the kiss, still holding her close. 

 

“Well,” He said softly, his chuckle was husky. “I couldn’t help myself there.”  Cullen explained.

 

“Are you making excuses, lover?” She laughed softly. His eyes seemed to glitter with lust in response.

 

“Only if you didn’t just enjoy that as much as I did, My Lady.”  Cullen drawled his response. Where had he gotten this confidence from? It shone through at times, but tonight was different. She responded by kissing gently at his neck and he gasped softly. She smirked at the lip stain marks she left on his neck.  “Erenne, please…”

 

“Mm, Yes Cullen?” She lightened her tone.

 

“You are making it  _ very _ difficult to be the gentleman you praise me as.”  His tone was a mix of amusement and restraint.

 

Erenne giggled and pulled back. “Oh, I didn’t realize I was asking  you to  _ be  _ a gentleman with me tonight.”

 

That familiar smirk tugged at his lips. “Oh, I see…. but I  _ do _ need you to know this isn’t just some tryst for me. I am serious about you.”

 

Her heart skipped a beat. “If you haven’t noticed, I am quite serious about you, too.” She looked up to his face, and the conflict there seemed to be more than anything she could soothe on her own. “Would you be more comfortable if we took it slow?” 

 

“I want what you want.”

 

“I want  _ this _ , Cullen…”  She touched his cheek, and the words spilled out unfiltered. “I want you so badly that the thought of being apart from you makes me ache. Every night I spend without you only serves to fill me with more of that longing.”

 

His expression changed slightly, he looked like a man who’d been starved of joy for far too long, and it was all she could do to not weep for him and hold him close. She wanted to take his pain away, to shield him from the struggles she knew he faced every minute of every day. Suddenly, his eyes darkened further with lust - a look she’d only seen a couple of times before.

 

“Good.” his voice was raw, almost a growl. As if a decision had been made, he kissed her deeply again, the hand on her back drifting lower to grip hungrily at her buttocks and pull her firmly against him.  A groan escaped her with his new boldness. If the tables in the room hadn’t been adorned with food and candles, she almost would have expected him to take her then and there. Instead, after several heated minutes of this they quickly climbed the ladder to his room and though it was cold up there in the half-open room, Erenne felt none of it. 

 

The heat he radiated helped keep her warm as he held her close. Even as he slowly undressed her, exposing her flesh to the night air with every button undone she barely paid any mind to the cold air around them. Cullen slowly peeled the dress down her body with such delicacy that it made her tremble. He made every movement with unbearably deliberate slowness. Each button was torture, each loosened ribbon like a feast held before a starving beggar. 

 

At first, he stared at her scantily clad in the black silk lingerie that had been hidden beneath the dress. He licked his lips somewhat, before insisting on peeling those away as well. He kissed at her neck as they stood in the middle of the red rug on his floor, slowly freeing her from the confines of the confection of silk that stood between him and his goal. When he was finished, she felt unsteady as a newborn Halla when she finally stood before him, fully bared to his darkened gaze and the night sky above.

 

“You are positively  _ exquisite… _ ” He rumbled softly. His desire for her was clear from the straining bulge in his pants. He was impressive  _ there _ as well. Defined but scarred muscle rippled down his torso. His arms and shoulders were muscular and broad, too - many years as a Templar had done his physique endless favors. 

 

An almost virginal modesty washed over her as his hungry gaze ravaged every inch of her bare skin.  _ Those eyes _ … she always felt exposed under his direct gaze. She remembered, then, that he had never seen her naked before. Raw excitement fluttered in her stomach and she felt as though the hair her arms stood up at the thought.

Cullen took her hands and lured her with care to his bed. He guided her to sit on the edge of it where he kissed her again, this time more heatedly as his tongue pushed past her lips, claiming her mouth with his own. When a soft whimper escaped her, he pulled back to kiss along her jawline, down her slender neck, collarbone and paused at her breasts. The ex-Templar took each into his mouth in time before moving downwards, placing a trail of sweet kisses down her torso, until he knelt before her and between her legs, kissing and occasionally nipping at her thighs.  Firm hands gripped at her thighs, pushing them apart.

 

Erenne had to brace herself on the bed as he did all this, grasping at the white sheets. She couldn’t help but squirm with pleasure - already panting by the time he knelt before her. When he nipped at her skin, she gasped at the tingling of pleasure that rippled across her skin, rising as gooseflesh across her body, nipples standing at attention from the mix of sensations and the cool night air. She could feel the slick, hot desire building between her legs as his mouth crept ever closer. 

 

Finally, looking like a man paying tribute at the altar of a Goddess, his calloused hands propped her thighs higher until her knees hooked over his shoulders, lifting her as though she’d been weightless to his strength. He bowed his head towards her core, reverently using two fingers to part her folds, already wet and waiting for him. The Commander took his time running his hot tongue up the length of her slit, pausing at her clit to suck greedily upon it.

 

Shockwaves of pleasure radiated through Erenne the sensation lighting up her nerves not unlike using Storm Magic as her fingers tangled in his curly blonde hair, her head tilted back in bliss. His fingers pressed against her back, holding her up to him as if he were drinking from some holy chalice and it wasn’t too long before he had her arching towards his face in sweet release. He’d made her so wet that she felt the hot stickiness of her arousal on her thighs as well. And then he did it again, and again until she was breathlessly limp in his arms and he mercifully set her down upon the mattress.

 

Slowly, he rose, wiping his face in the back of a hand with an extremely satisfied grin as she lay sprawled out on his bed. This was  _ real _ , this was happening, and she had never felt such a thrill.

 

* * *

 

Cullen licked his lips hungrily as he stared down at Erenne’s reclined form stretched across his sheets like a lazy feline. She was panting somewhat and a slight sheen graced her soft tan skin. Good. Finally, the gorgeous Inquisitor was his. The anticipation he’d felt leading up to this moment was unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life. He wanted to bewitch her just as much as she did to him. To coax, to seduce, to inspire the same longing she instilled within him. Most of all, he simply wanted to love and be loved by her. He could tell she at least cared deeply for him, whatever doubts she might have held about other lovers waiting in the wings. The thought pushed aside, he let his eyes trace over her form with great interest.

 

She'd had some scars, but otherwise, her tan skin was smooth. From her time in the Inquisition, she had begun to develop some muscle tone from all her time spent hiking, walking, and fighting to restore peace. Her hair splayed out beneath her head, the modest swell of her breasts moved when she shifted. Somehow, even reclined she moved with a fluidity he could never understand.  Her inhuman gracefulness was often a topic of conversation in the barracks. Indeed, many of the soldiers were smitten by the Inquisitor's beauty and strength. It inspired much loyalty from them, a tool she had to call upon often, even if only subtly. 

 

“Maker's breath, but you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.” He found himself whispering across the moonlit room to her in awe.

 

She laughed softly, stirring with the sound. Her blue eyes caught the moonlight and for a moment he could have sworn they glowed. “You are the most beautiful  _ man  _ I've ever seen, Cullen.” Her lithe form lazily propped itself up on one elbow. Her words warmed his face, though he felt he could get no hotter than he already felt tonight. His blood rushed in his veins for her, his arms longed to hold and shelter her...among  _ other _ things. She mumbled something in Elvish and he raised a brow at her.

 

“What does that mean?” He asked, stepping closer with intrigue. 

 

She sat up in full now, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. “If you take your clothes off, Commander, I'll tell you.” Her tone was playful. 

 

He hesitated. “I…” it had been so long. Many years, in fact. 

 

The beautiful Dalish woman continued to work at his shirt with deft, practiced fingers. How many others had there been? How many men had fallen prey to her intense beauty? “Is there anything I can do to soothe your nerves, lover?” The question was gentle, and it was one he hadn't expected. 

 

“It has been… a rather long time for me, Erenne.” 

 

She smiled genuinely. “Well, aren't I lucky to be given such a privilege?” Her hands stilled once she’d finished unbuttoning his shirt, hands resting on his chest and mercifully giving him time to think. That confident tone of hers stoked a fierceness in him, rising to the perceived challenge even if none was meant. “What would you like to--?” 

 

He pinned her to the bed suddenly and kissed her hard, effectively cutting her off. The slender elf gasped against his lips in surprise, but he didn't care. The time for words had passed for now. Any further talk and he feared he'd talk himself back into propriety instead of letting himself have exactly what he wanted.  

 

His hands gripped at her body, searching, feeling and in the midst of the urgency between them, he shrugged off the shirt.  While she blindly unfastened his belt and undid the ties of his pants, he also kicked off his boots - somehow managing to keep their lips effectively locked in passionate kisses and gentle bites.

 

Soon enough they were on equal terms. He kept her gently pinned with one hand holding one of her slender wrists, kissing her with all the passion he could muster, free hand roaming and tracing patterns across her skin. During this, he paid special attention to her breasts, tracing up and around each soft fleshy mound until he had cause to fully palm at them. His squeezing, insistent hand made Erenne squirm against him - making his blood boil. Her lips opened readily to his invading tongue as he deepened the kiss as his tongue pushed up against hers in her hot mouth, the action made his stomach tighten. He could feel her shudder and shiver at certain touches, hips rising towards his with longing. 

 

The wanton little sound she made when he slipped two fingers into her apex made him groan in response, by instinct he nipped at her bottom lip and she mewled against his mouth again. They continued this for some time, this rolling romp across his sheets. He had every intention of making her cum for him again, fingers curling as though to say ‘come hither’. She groaned aloud, breaking their kiss. A mischievous flash shone in her eyes before she kissed him again, more passionately.

 

Her own wandering hand eventually went straight to the prize she sought, a gentle grip finding his throbbing erection. And suddenly, he was no longer in control - completely frozen in place by the simplest action. He let loose a low groan, swallowed greedily by her wanting mouth, and he could have cum right then. ‘ _ No,’  _ he thought. ‘ _ It's far too soon.’   _ He stilled his actions then, shuddering at her touch. The beautiful elf pumped her hand along his length, seeming to revel in feeling him in her grasp.

 

Erenne broke the kiss with an almost painful slowness, a thin strand of saliva trailed between their open mouths. The sloppiness of it only drove his arousal further. The smirk on her face was devious as she stroked him further, driving him positively mad with desire. “Make love to me...” She whispered in that sultry voice that haunted his dreams. 

 

She certainly didn’t need to ask him twice. Cullen rose for but a moment to allow her to lay more comfortably on the bed before he returned to her to savor the taste of her lips again before faithfully obeying his Inquisitor’s command. With a calculated slowness, he grasped the thick shaft of his iron-hard cock and, inch by inch, buried himself to the hilt within her; their joining causing them both to groan out into the night air around them. Cullen could feel her stretch to accommodate him, marveling at how slick she was for him. He kissed her tenderly, one hand tangled in her hair then cupping her face, holding his own weight up with the other.

 

He started slow, wanting to commit every inch of her body to his memory, as if they might never do this again. As if she would disappear at any time. The feeling of her sex tightening around him with every movement he made was almost too much to handle but he managed it. Her hot, slick sheath seemed to try to draw him closer with every push of his hips - he wouldn’t tease her like this for too long, not until she asked of course.

 

“Creators, Cullen…” She moaned, arching up to him to emphasize her desires. 

 

“Mm, yes darling?” 

 

“Don’t make me  _ order _ you to fuck me proper.”

 

He gladly obliged his lady love, pistoning with force into her, the wet slap of their lovemaking filling the room. She writhed beneath his touch, throwing her head back against the bed with abandon in the dim room. The bed, though sturdy, squeaked with the abnormal movement. 

 

The elf clung to him, wrapping her arms and legs around him as if she couldn’t get close enough to him, as if he couldn’t go deep enough. The angle change allowed him to push her limits, making her moan loudly as he claimed her lips, pushing her limits. The lustful cries of his lover made his cock twitch within the confines of her and it took all of his willpower to not let go of the pent up seed within him - his desire to please her somehow winning out over his body’s primal urges. 

 

“Cullen,” She whined. “Oh, please.” her tone was of begging. 

 

“Tell me what you want, darling.” He found himself rasping, maintaining his pace with little interruption.

 

_ “Harder _ .” She half-growled, nails digging into his flesh. The pain had a delicious edge to it. “I’m so close.” 

 

In no time, he found himself setting a punishing pace - one that sent her completely over the edge. It wasn’t his usual style, but the frustration that’d built up between them drove him to move with abandon. He wanted only to please her, his desires were nothing in the wake of her own.  Maker help him, he somehow managed to outlast her climax. The intensity of her inner walls shuddering around him was electrifying and it took all he had to hold onto his sanity. Her thighs quivered and gooseflesh rose all across her skin. 

 

“You’re so beautiful, Erenne…” He breathed, kissing her softly.

 

All he wanted was to savor her as long as he could. Somehow, willpower alone sustained him though his concentration had begun to wane. He continued, rolling his hips into her until sweet release found him at last, and the ex-Templar buried himself as deep as he could go once more, his cock spasming with a climax that wracked his body as he felt his seed fill her at last. He lay panting above her for a moment, his manhood still an iron-hard rod sheathed deep within her. She smirked up at him, blue eyes glinting.

 

“Oh, you are  _ far _ from done Commander. Keep going.” Erenne said breathily, a playful grin on her face. She pulled him down for another kiss and they began again.

 

“Yes, Inquisitor.” He replied obediently, thrusting into her again and again. “ _ Maker’s breath, yes... _ ” A throaty groan escaped him and he feared he might climax again right then and there. Where he’d gotten such stamina, he had not a clue. Vaguely, he wondered if magic could achieve such things.

 

This time, she had him turn over while he was still buried deep inside her so she effectively mounted the summit that was his cock and he marveled at the sight of her straddling him. All thought, all coherence halted as she rode him slowly at first - slowly increasing in speed and force. As she did, he grasped hungrily at her breasts, occasionally pulling her closer to kiss her hungrily. When upright, he found himself watching with wonder as she impaled herself on him again and again. 

 

Getting closer, She rolled her hips in a constant repeat of motion, her moans gaining in volume and frequency until she cried out his name and shuddered around him again, bringing him near to what could only be described as sexual destruction as she used him as her own personal rutting post. The way her breasts bounced with the movement, her head lulling back as her pleasure increased. A string of Elven words escaped her into the cool air. Beams of moonlight streamed across her skin, her skin glowing from it. It was almost as though she were thanking the Elven Gods for this encounter. Perhaps she was.

 

Their lovemaking was the most intense thing he’d ever felt, beyond the withdrawal, deeper than the nightmares, or the pain that wracked his body on the worst days… This was an all-consuming fire, a love he’d never before experienced and wasn’t sure he could ever feel again beyond his time with her.   

 

Once they were both spent, he remembered holding her close as she drifted to sleep, later drifting off himself. His own sleep was not as peaceful as he’d hoped. Images of the horrors of Kinloch Hold screamed loudly in his head, his cowardice, the abominations, the death.. all of it plagued him over and over in varying gruesome details until he was jolted awake with a shout, no doubt startling Erenne. He opened his eyes to see her kneeling on his bed, and he realized his head was on her lap- her hand had been gently caressing his forehead, a worried look on her face.  The room was dim, the sun had not yet risen.

 

“You’ve been having nightmares, my dear.” Her tone was gentle, soothing and somehow...Understanding? Maker, he did not deserve her.  

 

“I am sorry to have disturbed you, Erenne. I…”  He closed his eyes and rubbed his face anxiously. He was so tired.

 

“How often?” Her voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear her.

 

He hesitated - how could he tell her? At the same time, how could he lie? “Nearly every night. It’s much worse without Lyrium.” He sighed. “Worrying about me is the last thing you need right now.”

 

“Surely, I can spare some worry for you.” She ran her soft hand over his hair soothingly. “We still have some time before your day begins, would you like to try to relax some?” 

 

He smiled, moving so she had more room on the bed and they lay together, entwined again. That was all it took, and he found a brief but peaceful slumber again, filled with beautiful visions of her. Erenne in the sun, laying in his bed laughing, calling his name in the night, loving him until the end of his days. Images of his fondest wishes flashed through his mind’s eye, filling him with hope for the future.

 

Which, of course, was abruptly disturbed by one of his  _ worst _ fears. 

 

* * *

 

 

Cassandra led Leliana and Josephine through Skyhold at a brisk pace while frustration set her jaw. The Inquisitor was nowhere to be found and she was  _ late _ for their meeting to discuss finding the remaining Seekers of Truth, wherever they might be.  So, too, was the Commander for that matter. 

 

“We don’t have time for this.” She grumbled. “Surely, the Commander wouldn’t shirk his duties so.” 

 

“They  _ did _ have plans last night…” Leliana said thoughtfully. Josie giggled, but Cassandra blatantly ignored her. The trio strode the battlements toward Cullen’s tower in the warm morning sun. 

 

Upon entering the office, Leliana immediately noticed the remnants of a rather extravagant meal remained on the table. Fresh roses sat forgotten on the desk next to a tray of fine Orlesian chocolate pastries and an empty bottle of a familiar Antivan port. The red-haired spymaster shared a secret smile with Josephine. They of course both knew what the Commander’s intent had been. In fact, they’d helped him organize much of it. Josie was always a romantic, and Leliana wanted both the Commander and Erenne to find happiness.

 

Cassandra took no notice at all, going straight to the ladder, climbing it quickly before the other two women could protest. “Commander,” She growled. “You’re late for our meeting and this kind of behavior is simply -”  She stopped at the top, shocked at the sight of a  _ very _ naked Cullen’s back, his bottom covered only by the dark leg of none other than the inquisitor wrapped around him. She gave a shocked shout before she could think. “AH!” She was thoroughly embarrassed, but also couldn’t tear her eyes away. “Sweet Maker!”

 

They both jolted awake then, Erenne looking over his back while he scrambled to cover them both, stammering nervously about how he could ‘explain’. No explanation was needed, much to her horror.  This was far more than she’d ever wanted to see. Though, admittedly, it was rather salacious to catch someone in the act - not unlike her favorite novels.

 

“Well, good morning Cassandra.” Erenne drawled while Leliana and Josephine burst into a fit of mad giggling from below. 

 

Cassandra tried to shield her eyes. “Andraste’s mercy, put some clothes on and get to the War Room! You’re both late!” She blindly climbed back down, mortified and glared at the other two women when she reached the floor. “Why didn’t you  _ warn me?!” _ She hissed as they made their hasty escape. 

 

Josephine couldn’t stop laughing, so Leliana was the first to respond. “If you hadn’t rushed in as you had, you would have seen the clear evidence all around you that they were together.” 

 

Truthfully, she’d had every inkling that Erenne was a woman who didn’t  _ do _ commitment. 

 

* * *

 

Upon hearing their retreating footsteps and arguing, Erenne burst into laughter. “If only you could have  _ seen _ her face!” Erenne said through her laughter.

 

Cullen looked less amused. “Remind me to get bolts for the door.” 

 

“Oh, come on, it could have been worse.” She teased, kissing him tenderly. “She could have seen us  _ in the act _ .” The look on his face told her that the words provided no comfort whatsoever for him.  At his look, she cupped his cheek. “Hey, before we get ready...I want to tell you something.” 

 

“Oh? What’s that?” He raised a brow, one hand tangling itself in her hair. 

 

“I love you.” 

 

His eyes widened, but he pulled her close into a passionate kiss. Firm, scarred lips slowly broke the meeting of their mouths, and he looked her square in the eye as he replied, “I love you too, Erenne.”

 

And it was perfect.


	13. The Dreamers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the stillness of a sleepless night, the dreamers find sanctuary - but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some of the Elvhen language bits in this are from **[FenxShiral's Project Elvhen work.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883?view_full_work=true)**

 

 

Solas stood alone on the battlements in the dark of the cool night. He’d needed some fresh air - of course, that was a mistake.

 

An all-too-familiar voice let out a high-keening cry of lust that rang out into the dark from the direction of the Commander’s tower. Erenne. He’d known that the human Commander had the intention of taking his relationship with the Inquisitor to the next level, but he’d hoped to be able to turn a blind eye to it all.  

 

Now, even days later in the silence of his chambers, all he could hear in his mind were repeats of her cries of pleasure in that night full of wanton abandon for a man that wasn’t him.   He tried to remind himself time and again that things were better if she didn’t love him back. It would hurt less when he eventually made his leave, whenever that might be. Solas had plans, plans that he had no intent to halt - he would right all of his wrongs, no matter the cost. Remembering himself, he shook his head and closed his eyes as he lounged on his couch.

 

The loneliness threatened to overtake him, like an icy gauntlet around his heart, wicked claws slowly digging in. The ever-deepening love he had for Erenne was the only torch he held to warm his soul amidst the endless storm of sorrow that had filled his life. Even if he didn't deserve it for all he had ruined, all that he betrayed. She interrupted his every thought - her smile, her laugh, the feeling of her body against his when he embraced her in the Winter Palace and the scent of her skin. The taste of her lips haunted him though their only kiss had been in the Fade. Solas had meant what he said to her in their shared dream amongst the trees of the forest she grew up in - he would have pledged his soul to her if he could. Sometimes, he wondered what it would cost to give up his goals for her - would he be able to make her happy, even knowing what he knew? Being _what_ he was? No. He couldn't.

 

Solas ached for her, realizing his thoughts now turned only toward faded images of her naked form in the moonlit lake all those months ago - the memory stirred him in a way now that it never had before. His desires were beyond anything he’d felt in many years - he certainly never thought he’d feel it in this age. Instead of indulging in the growing arousal he felt, he willed himself to sleep, to walk the Fade to her, to see if she did the same.

 

He felt her dreaming, but not consciously. Everything in this space of consciousness in the Fade was like an impression, an instinct that gave someone adept a read on what was happening wherever one might be. In this case, he could tell that Erenne was simply dreaming, instead of dreamwalking as they often did together.

 

Curiosity overtook him, and he wandered into her mind's space casually, their mental bond making it all too easy to invade as a hidden observer, invisible. She’d never know unless he told her. Interestingly enough, he found himself in her chambers, standing on the stairs leading up to her room. The sun barely peeked over the mountains, the entire room bathed in the rosy glow of early sunrise. A soft, breathy sigh met his ears, and he realized he was intruding on what was likely a _very_ private dream - somehow, that didn’t stop him from climbing the stairs. He was at once fascinated and shocked at what he saw: an image of himself holding the beautiful elf he so desperately craved. He got the impression that the image had intruded upon her bedchamber in reckless passion, as though ‘he’ might spirit her away from the Inquisition and all responsibility.

 

Was that what she really wanted?

 

“Solas…” Erenne protested weakly, softly. Her hand laid on his chest as he leaned close to her, though the gesture was obviously insincere. “We can’t, I--”

 

“Hush, _vhenan_ , the Commander is away, and you are mine now…” ‘his’ voice sounded deeper than he knew it was. The man above her looked like him but sharper, more dangerous looking, and his shoulders were a bit broader. Was _this_ how she imagined him? This handsome, regal man with eyes that could kill? The very thought made sparks shoot up his spine. The imagined Solas wore black clothes that were vaguely similar to what he’d worn in their shared dream space, his hand reached beneath her robe and he got a distinct impression that the other-Solas was fingering her. The dream chuckled in a husky voice. “ _My…_ So wet for me, my sweet _da’len_ , I had no idea you wanted it this badly…” His tone was so confident, as though he knew there was absolutely no way he _couldn’t_ seduce her.

 

“Please, Solas, I need you.” Erenne’s voice practically a whimper. She whispered sweet words to him in their native tongue, words he’d always wanted to hear her say, as her dream’s version of him leaned down to kiss her passionately.

 

This was almost too much to bear.  The dream became a fuzzy haze of black fog, her mind shifting its line of thought to another scene, one where they were making love - he watched with bated breath as his other self rolled his hips sharply into her, the Inquisitor’s nails leaving delicious blood-drawing scratches all down his back as they both let out guttural groans of passion.

 

“ _Ar lath ma, Vhenan…”_ she breathed the words over and over like a spell. His stomach tightened, fists clenched. _“Ar lath ma, Solas--_ ” She cried out in climax, clinging to him desperately. “Don't ever leave me…” she whispered.

 

“I won't, _da'len…_ ” the dream said softly, cradling her in a moment of sweetness. “I swore myself to you, and I meant it.”

 

This dream was too short.

 

It shifted again, to a more tender scene with Cullen where they proclaimed their love for one another, then to a surprisingly primal scene with The Iron Bull that involved ropes and whips. Then, some scandalous combinations of them all or even others- all of her deepest fantasies lain bare to him, an unknown and surely unwanted intruder.  It was at this point, he had to leave for his own sanity. He had honestly hoped to speak to her if it were a more mundane dream, but her dreams were her own - however confusing and arousing it may have been to witness such fantasies. Truthfully, it wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed a similar dream from her - but it was the first time he saw _himself_ painted into her dreams in such a way. Regret filled his hollow core.

 

The remainder of his night he worried would be spent with the familiar heartache of loneliness and a painful need for release he knew he could not have. He wanted her so badly.

 

* * *

 

Erenne awoke suddenly, panting and flushed from her surprisingly erotic dreams. It was the middle of the night, she realized, and groaned in frustration. Who knew her pent up desires having been released would only make her even more insatiable? She’d been light as air and so content in the days that followed her consummating her love for Cullen. They hadn’t laid with each other since, but she wanted him badly. Their schedules had been so demanding, and neither of them seemed used to the idea of one spending the night with the other just yet. She preferred that he stay with her, but he felt as though it might be overstepping his bounds in the public eye that he cared so much about if he did so. Eventually, she’d help him get over that.

 

_‘Hush, vhenan, the Commander is away, and you are mine now.’_

 

The memory of her dream resurfaced then and she felt herself heat up. It had all felt nearly real. So vivid, not like dreamwalking but close. She wasn’t surprised that she’d dreamt about the elegant elven man - she never once denied her attraction to him, so much as the idea of a relationship with him. It was, of course, the only way she'd ever know his touch now. Cullen asked her for loyalty, and she was willing to give it. That didn't mean she couldn't fantasize. There was no harm in that. Some small part of her felt guilty for it, regardless. It seemed her curiosity wouldn't fade away.

 

Realizing that there was no way she was going to get any sleep for a while, she rose from the bed in her thin white gown. The chill night air didn’t bother her, she was far too warm for it. A walk would surely clear her head. With intent to walk to the kitchens, she walked sleepily down the stairs into the main hall. Her bare feet padded softly along the rugs in the great hall. The night guards stood immediately at attention.

 

“Lady Inquisitor.” One of the hall guards dared to greet her. “Can’t sleep? Shall I fetch a servant?” The other guard remained politely quiet.

 

She smiled at him, unoffended. In fact, she wished she knew all of the soldiers better - these men and women laid down their lives for the Inquisition. Erenne sometimes felt guilty for not being more familiar with them. “No, soldier, that’s quite alright.” Her reply came smoothly. “What’s your name?”

 

“It’s Robert, Lady Inquisitor.”

 

“I find that walks help, Robert. Keep an eye on things for me, will you?”

 

“Yes, Ser.” He saluted her crisply. Impressive, considering this was the most boring post in all of Skyhold most of the time, especially overnight.

 

“Very good.” She nodded to him approvingly and strode off toward the kitchen. She sighed, whoever’s idea it was it to build the kitchen on the _opposite end_ of the hold was beyond her. She vaguely wondered if Solas knew why it was like that…. _Solas_. She tensed at the thought of him. Seeing him in the day would be awkward, at least for her. He, of course, couldn’t know her dreams, could he?  Passing the closed doorway to his room made tingling anticipation run down her spine again, but she kept walking.

 

Outside, the night air was calm and quiet. No one, save for the guards on night duty, was outside. And even _they_ were incredibly quiet. Using simple wind magic was more than enough to ensure her safe landing as she leaped over the partition wall into the lower courtyard, the gust around her body made her hair float weightlessly about her shoulders and her nightgown flared out somewhat. The wind was cool against her skin and felt so _freeing_ as if she could fly off into the mountains on a whim. If only it were that easy.

 

She found her tea stashed away where she always kept it, in an intricately painted wooden box she kept in the kitchen and soon enough she was heating up water over the hearth as she hummed a soft Dalish tune. Making music calmed her, it was her only _true_ relief some days from the daily stress of the massive burden upon her shoulders. Protecting the fate of all Thedas was certainly not something that allowed for much sleep on her part. Somehow, she couldn't imagine her life being anything else anymore. Her calling had come and she answered, and even despite moments of longing and loneliness she didn't regret her choices. She wouldn't have done things any differently.

 

The kettle gave a low whistle and she removed it from the hearth with just enough time before it got too loud - she certainly didn’t want to awaken the kitchen staff or anyone else. The wooden handle was well-worn and smooth from many years of use, the cast iron of the body of the kettle was black as coal and rough on the outside. This piece clearly wasn't made for aesthetics. She pondered the kitchen absently as she waited for the tea to steep in the steaming hot water. Suddenly, she felt a chill of awareness prickle the back of her neck.

 

“Couldn't sleep, _da'len_?” the tone sounded strained, tired. Solas. He stood in the half-open doorway dressed in his usual attire- he always favored whites and earthen tones it seemed. Nondescript clothing made it harder for people to remember him or pick him out in crowds. Unsurprising, considering how he told her he lived before the Inquisition. Why, then, did his clothes appear so intricate in their dreams together?

 

“Hello, Solas. No, I had some things on my mind. How'd you know I was here?” she asked, curious.

 

“I heard you talking to the guards in the main hall. I couldn't sleep, either.” He pinched the bridge of his nose somewhat, clearly exhausted.

 

She frowned. “Solas, are you alright?”

 

“No, I don’t believe I am…” He crossed the space between them, his slow gait not unlike the night after Haven fell. That conjured memories of the way he held her that cold night and a longing filled her that she hadn’t quite realized was there.

 

He embraced her then, burying his face in her hair against her neck, the smell of tea wafting up and around them with his movement through that space. Erenne felt frozen then, unsure what to do with the feelings this had conjured within her. She loved Cullen with all her heart, this was something she had no doubts on. But Solas’ intimate understanding of Erenne as a mage, as an Elf, as a Dalish woman… All of these things were beyond anything she could simply ignore. Far beyond what she could let go without regret.

 

Erenne let him hold her and slowly wrapped her arms around him. When she did, he closed the gap between them and let out a shuddering breath.

 

At last, she found her voice again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“If I say no, will you insist?” His voice cracked and so did her heart. Tears stung her eyes.

 

“Of course not, _lethallin_.”

 

“Look at me, _da’len._ ”

 

She wiped at her eyes and stepped back to look at him, her actions were then stilled by the look in his eyes. His gaze bore into hers, smoldering with emotion- too many for her to name and she could _feel_ them all just by looking at him. Their mental bond through the dreamwalking was stronger than she’d realized. He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. He didn’t need to say anything else. Neither of them could stand the thought of being alone for the rest of the night, and they had found everything they needed in each other again and again. It was something they couldn’t ignore. He loved her profoundly, and she knew it now more than ever before.

 

The tea was left forgotten. They walked off to a more secluded space, an alcove away from prying eyes and it was there that he cupped her chin in his strong, but elegant hand. His skin was soft and his unique masculine scent overwhelmed her again, just like the first time she saw him. Spice and woodsmoke. All words escaped her comprehension as he leaned in close, lips barely an inch from hers, but then he backed off, leaving her nearly trembling with anticipation.

 

His eyes searched her face. “What do you want, Erenne _?_ ” The question hung in the air between them. If she gave him what he wanted, she’d have betrayed Cullen. If she didn’t… She’d be betraying her own desires.

 

Never before in her life had she felt bound by a relationship - she’d never been one for ‘traditional’ ties to the men she bedded. Life had always felt too short for that. Cullen had been the only man she’d openly promised that loyalty to.

 

Was it an empty promise she couldn’t fulfill?

 

* * *

 

The way Erenne's chest heaved, lungs sucking in air as though she might drown in the pressure between them, made Solas’ skin prickle. Her skin was flushed compared to its tanned tone, her nipples taut and pointing out against the thin white silk night slip. His stomach tightened as he realized his chance had finally come.

 

When she broke the silence, her gentle voice quavered.  “I want _you_ …”

 

All thought, all reservation had vanished with those words. He barely managed to control his own strength as he pushed her back up against the wall and kissed her slowly at first, his wanting tongue pushing past the defenses of those full lips he loved so much. She moaned and he greedily continued, hoisting her up against the wall. Erenne wrapped her legs around him, her arms around his neck as his mouth held hers captive. He should be resisting the temptation, but he didn’t give a damn anymore. The time would come when she would slip through his fingers again by his own volition - he would savor everything about this woman while he could. He cared not for the Commander’s feelings in the matter.

 

Her thin gown hiked up and draped high over her thighs. He stole a quick glance and realized that there was _nothing_ beneath that slip. The revelation made his arousal strain painfully against the confines of his clothes and with a groan, he gripped at her hips and kissed her again. One hand slipped up her silk-covered torso, appreciating every ridge of gently toned muscle and every rib until he grasped at her breast, palm pressing the hard nub of her nipple.

 

The strangled sound of pleasure she made at that nearly drove him mad. She writhed against him deliciously. His heart pounded in his chest as he felt her own hands wandering down, near to the waistband of his pants. _Oh no_ , he wouldn't make it _that_ easy for her. Not tonight.

 

He stilled her wandering hands with one of his own, a gentle grip of her wrists.

 

“Patience, _da’len.”_ He chastised, leaning back just enough to smirk at her.

 

“Don't you think we're past that point?” Her brow knitted in protest.

 

“Not at all,” he replied simply, that hand now going to her neck, gripping it firmly, but not too hard. She trembled with need for him - no wonder why she and the Qunari had gotten along so well.  He could faintly smell her arousal and it made him want to take her then and there against the wall, but that would be too easy. Solas wanted to make her _beg_ . No, he _needed_ to hear her beg for it - to plead with him for release...  He pressed against her, the bulge of his arousal aligning with her bare sex. He pressed against her and kissed her heatedly, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth again, savoring her taste.

 

She gripped at his back, nails scraping against his shirt as she tried in vain to hold back a groan of need. He rolled his hips, grinding up against her as she writhed with pleasure, trapped against the wall. He had every intention of doing this until she couldn’t take it anymore, until she was ready to bow to him in supplication of his every desire. Erenne had made him wait this long, and now he intended to make her pay for it, in a manner of speaking.

 

His tan-skinned lover rolled her hips as if wanting to get herself off against him and he stilled his movements, pulling back just enough that her actions were rendered useless. She broke the kiss, cursing softly in their language.   


“Solas…” She sounded frustrated with him.

 

He couldn’t help but smile then. “Yes, _lethallan_?” he kept his tone light, but purposeful.

 

“Insufferable man...” She groaned.

 

He leaned in then, running his tongue along the curve of her earlobe. The shudder that ran through her at that was immensely satisfying. “Beg me...” he pressed his lips to that ear, the heat of his breath making her skin rise with goosebumps. “Beg me for it, Erenne, and I will give you release…”

 

She moaned at the words, writhing in vain. “Please,” She breathed. “ _Sathan_ , Solas…”

 

Not good enough. “Please... _what_?”

 

 _“Sathan, pala em_ ,” she hissed the response as if her arousal was painful and release would be the only cure. Her frustration was clear and oh-so-delightful to him.  “I need you right now, damn it all! _Sathan..._ ”

 

Solas grinned as he removed his tunic and murmured gentle praise to her in their language before reaching down and unfastening his pants, working at it until his rigidly erect length sprung free of its prison. Feeling far too urgent to bother undressing in full, he pressed her back against the wall again roughly, angling his hips and mercilessly sheathing himself deep within her without warning. The gasp of pleasure and pain that escaped her at his intrusion only drove him further.   
  
“ _Pala em elvar’el_ …!” The Inquisitor demanded, her words a forceful whisper while her nails scraped sharply down his back. He could sense that she felt the same; two halves of a coin, wanting to be one so badly they’d thoughtlessly destroy one another to do it.

 

Solas set a relentless pace, pounding his way into her wanting apex. The wet _slap_ of his punishment echoed faintly in the hall, making them both groan with pleasure. They were so blissfully alone, yet exposed. The danger of it seemed to arouse her more than him. Solas pistoned up into her faster, harder, firmly gripping each of her thighs to hold her up so he could move more freely and restrain her own movements. He used her for his own pleasure at first, but that aspect seemed to give her her own. Their emotions intermingled in the space around them- the air crackling with energy. Solas watched her bite her lip and hold back cries of pleasure. The dripping wet arousal of her sex coated him and likely soaked his pants now.

 

He didn’t care. He wanted more-- so much more.  
  
“Take off that gown,” He growled low at her, bucking his hips hard enough to knock her head back against the cold stone to emphasize his command. “Let me see you. Now.”

 

Panting heavily, she complied by lifting the garment up and over her head and dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor. At last, her naked form was revealed to him again. Solas leaned in to enjoy her breasts greedily, changing the angle of his actions and slowing purposefully as he did so. She gasped then, cursing to herself.

 

“ _Lasa em tua rosas’da’din_ , and I _might_ be generous and let you do it again.” Solas rumbled between taking turns sucking and licking at each of her breasts. She shuddered visibly. He could feel it then, her insides clenching and seemingly pulling him in.

 

“ _Vera em su tarasyl_ , Solas…” Her voice was a husky drawl. She pulsed around him with pleasure and through their empathic bond, he knew she was about to hit the breaking point. He dared to take away one hand to clamp it over her mouth to keep her quiet for when the moment came.

 

“Let go,” He urged her on, the sudden change of one leg falling without his hand to hold it up made her shudder around him. “Give in to me, _ma’sa’lath..._ ” He growled, moving with more vigor once again, hitting that same spot within her again and again, angling his thrusts just how she needed it.

 

Finally, she gave him what he wanted. Her emotions overwhelmed his mind and he got the impression of _fireworks_ and her world caving in as she clung to him, nails breaking his skin as she scratched him and screamed in pleasure into his palm. Her entire body shuddered and the white-hot blinding bliss of her climax nearly staggered him and caused him to still. Solas thought to remain still to give her a moment but quickly changed his mind.

 

She could rest when _he_ was done.

 

He removed his hand from her mouth and took a fistful of silken black hair and tilted her head back so he could kiss her neck more easily as he found his pace again, burying himself until he was fully sheathed within her. He hit her limits and pulled her down onto him, pushing them again as he gasped against her neck. His cock pulsed and twitched inside of her, releasing wave upon wave of his seed causing him to shudder and groan as it was his turn to cling to _her_.

 

At last, they were panting heavily in that dark hall trying to gather themselves. Solas slowly let her down and held her steady when her legs nearly buckled.

 

“Are you alright?” He murmured with concern.

 

“I just need a moment to steady myself.” Erenne tried to stand on her own, but he caught her again when she wavered. “Wow. Did you feel all that as intensely as I did? Our spiritual link from the dreamwalking _really_ , uh…” she looked sheepish. “ _Intensified_ things for me.”

 

“Yes, it was certainly...intense. Hang on a moment.” He let her go just long enough to grab her gown and hand it to her. “Here.”

 

“ _Ma Serannas_.” She slipped it on then leaned against the wall so he could gather his tunic and put that on.

 

Solas straightened himself up, though they both looked a mess from what they’d done - clothes rumbled, flushed, and Erenne’s hair was more untidy than he’d ever seen it.  He couldn’t help but smirk at her. “Am I going to have to help you back to your chambers?”

 

“I think it’s best if we’re not seen going _anywhere_ together at this hour, _Lethallin._ ” She replied, chuckling. “I’m sure you know that.”

 

He had to bite back the bile of jealousy that rose within him and work even harder to block such feelings from her. “Of course… We can discuss at a later time..in private, of course.”

 

“Of course.” She said softly, seeming guilty. They’d both calmed down enough that they no longer projected their emotions onto each other, leaving some breathing room at last. The experience was strange new territory for them both, a side effect of their time together that even he couldn’t have predicted.

 

He kissed her softly then, showing her just how tender he could be. “ _Son era, lethallin._ ”

 

At least he’d been able to give her a much more _interesting_ dream than the first.

 

* * *

 

Erenne opened her eyes, confusion settling in as she realized sunrise was suddenly near. She didn’t remember walking back from the hall - but she _did_ remember every little detail of what she’d done with Solas. Didn’t she?

 

It dawned on her then that she’d _dreamed_ this. They’d made love _in the Fade._

 

 _“Fenedhis!”_ she spat out the curse with frustration, running a hand through her hair in confusion and frustration. How had she not realized what had happened? Had she never awoken in the night to venture to the kitchen, or did he use magic to make her fall asleep after he hugged her? Dozens of questions filled her head. Meanwhile, she recognized, of course, that _now_ there was little guilt to be had - no evidence, no _physical_ evidence anyway, even if he’d given her a night she’d not soon forget.

 

“Such language, Inquisitor.” She could hear his amused tone from the stairs. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s unladylike to swear so foully?”

 

“Solas!” She rose from the bed and stomped over to him. “You have a lot to answer for, I--”  He held a hand up to silence her, and it worked. How was he so _commanding_ ? Over _her?_ It was frustrating.

 

“Sit down, and I will explain.”

 

He walked with her to the couch and sat beside her. Erenne waited silently, tense with expectation. The other elf took her hands with his own, a gentle touch that seemed to soothe her roiling storm of emotions.

 

“I…” He cleared his throat somewhat. “I know it’s no secret to you how I feel, _da’len_ , and I… Wanted to give you an opportunity to give me a chance….without consequences, without pressure.” He looked directly into her eyes. “It was a selfish thing to do and if you want me to, I will apologize. But know that I cannot possibly be sincere in an apology for something that I do not regret.”  

 

“Did you use magic on me?”

 

“No, _da’len_ , you never left your chambers last night. The dream of Skyhold was your own. I merely… stepped in.”

 

“I...don’t know how to feel about this.” She’d given up her body to him with little hesitation and even less regard for Cullen’s feelings. In the moment, she told herself it’d be a one-off and he’d never ever know about it, absolving her of her misdeeds. How could she have been so disloyal?

 

“We don’t have to do that, or anything else of that nature, ever again if you don’t want to.” He said softly. “If you wish to even stop dreamwalking together I will understand.”

 

“No, not at all, I--” She sighed, feeling lost. “I think I just need some time to think.”

 

He took her hand and kissed it gently. Somehow, it felt like it meant so much more than it ever did before. As far as she’d been concerned, Erenne had made love to him in the most intense sexual experience of her life.

 

“Take all the time you need _da’len_.”

 

That night, after dinner, Erenne went to have a drink with The Iron Bull. He, of course, was delighted to see her.

 

“I need to vent.”

 

“Is _that_ what we’re going to keep calling it?” He grinned at her. “Alright, then.”

 

Normally, she would have laughed at that. Instead, she shook her head. “No, Bull, I mean it this time.”

 

His smile faded. “What’s wrong?” He noticed her gaze darted around the tavern and he frowned. “Do we need to go somewhere else for this talk, Boss?”

 

She stood, that was a good idea. Less chance of nosy patrons hearing her. “Yes, let’s go.” Erenne picked up her tankard and finished it before waving at Cabot for another two drinks. She watched as Bull shrugged, downing his drink.  They trudged upstairs to his room, the most private space within reasonable walking distance.

 

“Okay, you’re starting to scare me a little, Boss.”

 

Erenne fell back into a chair, making herself comfortable. “There isn’t enough alcohol in the world to prepare me for what just happened.” She took a swig. “Solas and I...we…”

 

“Oh shit, Boss. _You banged?”_

 

“...In a manner of speaking.”

 

“Uh, is this going to be some weird magical crap?” He frowned. “Is sex magic even a _thing_? And if so, is it...hot?”

 

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the question. “Well, uh.. Remember how I told you we practice dreamwalking?”

 

“So...You fucked _in_ _the Fade?_ ” Clearly, he was amused. ‘ _How nice for you.’_ She thought bitterly.

 

She blushed. “I swear to Sylaise, if you start making puns I will turn you into a fucking toad.”

 

“You can’t do that.”

 

“ _Can’t I?_ ”

 

They stared at each other in silence for a lingering moment.

 

Bull held up his hands as if to say he gave up. “...Okay, fine. So you fucked in a dream in which you were both obviously conscious of _what_ you were doing together. But you didn’t actually _cheat_ on Cullen.”

 

“Didn’t I? It was all so real that I didn’t know we were dreamwalking. I didn’t realize it until I woke up, and he knew the entire time. He said it was...to give me the opportunity to give him a chance to be my lover without consequences.”

 

The Iron Bull took a long sip of his drink, considering. His single visible eye narrowed slightly as he seemed to think about it.  “I still say this isn’t worth guilt, Boss. That’s like saying that having a fantasy counts as cheating.”

 

She looked down. “But what if it hadn’t been?”

 

“I can’t answer that for you… if you think you can only be with _one_ of them, then you have a choice to make. I don’t really understand that concept too much, but to each their own.” He shrugged. “Why not have both? We don’t even know if the _world_ is ending right now.”

 

He was right, and that was the part that scared her.


	14. Interlude: Vir Laim’salasan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time to act is fast approaching but, oh, the wicked webs we weave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NOTE** 10/6/19: Hey yall I'm BACK! I have edited this chapter a smidge because I realized part of it did not flow correctly after re-reading the fic. I know there's some mistakes in previous chapters, but none so glaring as in this one (it was admittedly written in something of a rush). That said, I will be continuing the rest of the Saga soon. I'm currently writing out the next chapter! - iidnameht

Maps and beautifully crafted chess pieces scattered across the War Table amongst various dusty tomes, scrolls, and half-forgotten mugs of their drinks. The table was ancient and beautiful. Once, it appeared to have been a massive tree, later carved and cut to serve as a table. Roots remained, as though whomever had put this here had deep respect for the great tree having likely been there before Skyhold, and all it must had symbolized at one time… For whom had this served a purpose before her? And how long had it been here? These were all questions she had asked Solas when they'd first arrived at Skyhold. He had no answers for her, but still she wondered.

 

Solas, the man who had become her lover in dreams. The man to whom she was bound to beyond conventional means - the only other living being who fully understood her, and it was precisely why she hadn’t been able to call it off between them after that first night. He didn’t seem to mind that their interludes together were few and far between. It was easier this way to pretend they weren't having _relations_ \- even if they weren’t physical, her heart was still in it.   Bull insisted that it wasn’t _technically_ disloyal, but she wasn’t so sure.

 

Despite this, she continued to see Cullen regularly and Solas knew it- finding herself unable to let go of the stability he provided. He was every bit the gentleman she never realized she longed for. Funny, sweet, and genuine - Cullen made her love and feel loved more than she ever had in her life before. He showed her true affection and honest passion that filled her with awe. She saw a future with him after their work was done - perhaps they would live in Honnleath, settle down, have a family… She’d never thought of having children before meeting him, and it was clearly something he wanted.

 

But where did that leave Solas? Would he leave as soon as they were finished if they survived this? If they succeeded? Would his life resume as before - traversing Thedas to explore and study the Fade, alone?

 

Even with their own deepening relationship, she could tell he was holding back things from her. Her intuition about him had always felt this way. She sometimes wondered if she should have Leliana investigate him more deeply if she could. So little was known about him aside from what he had already discussed with the members of the Inquisition, including what she knew of him that he didn’t make common knowledge. The sum of it all was surprisingly lacking.

 

He brought an air of mystery that left her wanting to know more, to get into his head and understand where he was coming from. To have him let her in, at last, something she’d missed since they started getting to know one another… Her proverbial door was always open, while his remained tightly sealed. It was frustrating, but perhaps he had his reasons - she had to give him the benefit of the doubt, too.

 

It was mid-afternoon, the sun slanted warmly through the intricately crafted stained glass windows of the room, and they'd been debating on and reviewing a variety of matters for several hours. Erenne paced the room somewhat as they all discussed different matters, finally coming to a stop. She lay her palms upon the map of Thedas, her expression serious.

 

“Now for the more important matter at hand.” The advisors all looked to her, politely waiting for her to continue. “We must plan our next attack. What's our status?” Erenne was full of determination, ready to finally strike the killing blow - for herself and, more importantly, for all of Thedas.

 

Josephine chimed in first. “We are so well loved in Orlais that you need but say the word and Empress Celene will provide aid. She strongly believes in our cause.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

“Your sweeping victory at Adamant have denied Corypheus his army of pet demons- they were not prepared to retreat from the area as quickly as they did. His forces have suffered for it - we would have their numbers matched with Celene’s help.” Cullen added.

 

She nodded, turning to the red-haired spymaster. “Leliana?”

 

“My agents agree - our victories have shaken his disciples.” The coy smile on her lips was all-too-satisfied.

 

“Now is the time for the killing blow, it seems,” Erenne said thoughtfully. “Where is Corypheus now?”

 

Cullen spoke up first. “After you dealt with the Duchess at the Winter Palace, Corypheus has had no choice but to uproot his major holdings.” He smiled. “They’re panicking, and clearly not prepared to retreat. He’s moved south, to the Arbor Wilds. Our victories have them on the defensive.” Their gazes locked for a moment - the pride in his voice was evident. They had worked hard for everything they had, and it had not been easy.

 

“Then we must go where he is.” Erenne stood straight, hands on her hips in a confident stance. “He’s terrorized Thedas for far too long and it is time to end this.”

 

“But _why_ the Arbor Wilds? Why such a remote area, and what does he hope to achieve there?” Josephine asked, scribbling notes on the parchment clipped to her writing board. The candle on it had long gone out- not needed so much in the sunlight.

 

“What we _do know_ is that his people have been defiling and ransacking Elven ruins since Haven. What he hopes to find, we are not sure.”

 

Erenne shifted. This was a topic she did not like, her jaw was set tightly at that comment. If Corypheus were to discover another Orb if such a thing existed…

 

“This should surprise no one.” Morrigan’s voice floated to Erenne’s ears - enough to nearly making her jump. How had she gotten in so silently? She respected the witch but knew to be wary at least in part. “Fortunately, I believe I can assist.”

 

“Care to enlighten me, Lady Morrigan?”

 

“What he seeks is as ancient as it is dangerous… ‘tis best if I simply show you, Inquisitor.”

 

They walked out together into the gardens. Morrigan led her to what Erenne had always considered a harmless storage room, but against the back wall of that room was a massive mirror, easily 15 feet tall. It gave off strange energy that felt almost...familiar.  As if it beckoned to her.

 

“This is an _Eluvian._ Do you know of them?”

 

Erenne could only stare in wonder and shake her head. No, she hadn’t.

 

“It is an elven artifact from a time long before your ancestors’ empire fell to human greed. I restored this one at great cost, but I know another lies within the arbor wilds. That is what Corypheus seeks.”

 

‘You’re saying…. this _Eluvian_ belonged to my people?”  She stepped closer. “It’s beautiful. What does it do?”

 

She smiled and with a gesture, the liquid surface of the mirror burst alight, shimmering blue energy emanated from it, filling Erenne wit a sense of wonder. “The real question is: _where does it lead_?”

 

They stepped through to a misty place that felt lost to time, a foreboding and awe-inspiring place. Morrigan referred to the place as the ‘Crossroads’, a realm in which all Eluvians eventually would lead, a road that led to all others - Erenne decided ‘Crossroads’ was a more than an appropriate name for such a thing. The paths here stretched out farther than the eye could see, off into the distant mist. She couldn’t wait to talk about it with Solas. In theory, it would take incredible amounts of magic to create such a place. Not the Fade, but somewhere else. A pocket in space and time.

 

Erenne asked Morrigan to brief the advisors for her and briskly left the Inquisitor Wing in favor of seeking out Solas. She found him in his room, sitting in his chair and scowling down at a cup of tea.

 

* * *

 

 

Solas had felt a burst of energy from the gardens and wondered briefly if it was worth investigating. As if on queue, his beloved Inquisitor strode into the room and appeared at his side. She had quite the habit of coming to him at the most opportune moments.

 

“Not to your liking, _Lethallin_?” Her tone was light, but there was an intensity about her- she was excited about something big.

 

He found himself smiling as she sat on the edge of his desk, facing him. Their knees brushed against each other. She seemed to like these seemingly innocent ‘unintentional’ touches. “No, this tea is certainly not my favorite.”

 

“I never imagined you to be quite so picky. Have you tried the tea I keep in the kitchen?”

 

“No, but I do not imagine you came here in such a hurry to discuss my tea preferences, _da’len_. What’s on your mind?”

 

“Morrigan has something called an _Eluvian_. Do you know of them?”

 

His heart skipped a beat. Why was he not surprised that the witch had an Eluvian? _Of course_  she would, to be so mysteriously resourceful to have lived as long and as well as she had.

 

“I have heard legends.” He lied easily - she could never tell when he lied, anyway.

 

He sat and listened with half-hearted interest as she explained her conversation with Morrigan and described ‘the Crossroads’ to him with a tone not unlike that of a child in complete awe of something just beyond their understanding. He wished he could tell her everything, show her everything… Perhaps the last of his struggles need not be quite so solitary when they inevitably came. A folly, but one he wished he could entertain. She then further explained the upcoming mission to the Arbor Wilds. Again, he listened only with half his mind. The rest of his mind was drowning, trying to control the emotions rising up like bile in his gut.

 

“...And I want you to come with me when we do.” Her blue eyes were so intense with the statement, he worried for a moment that she might be able to see and know so much more than he’d have allowed.

 

“Did I not swear that I would stand by you in this?”  He asked, looking up at her in earnest.

 

“You did. I just want to ensure that you didn’t forget.” Her tone was...strange. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

He lowered his voice to a much softer tone. “ _Ma Vhenan_ , I would never forget this.”  He dared to reach out and take her hand, lacing their fingers together.

 

Her gaze turned away from him but she didn’t move away. “Not here, Solas...Please. What if someone heard you, saw us?” her voice was a whisper edged with fear.

 

He nodded. “As you wish.” Who was he to push? He didn't want to cause more problems for her than he already had...all things considered.  He reluctantly let go of her hand and held his teacup with two hands now, looking contemplatively down at the steaming liquid that reflected his countenance back at him. He’d likely never find good tea again, he realized ruefully.

 

“We may have to take care of some things before we gather the forces for the Arbor Wilds. I will expect you to join me in this as well. That is all.” She stood again and stepped away, her tone all business.  

 

She often did this when he tried to show her his love outside of their dreams - pushing him away even as she clung to the idea of being with him. It was a strange dance, this constant swelling and swirling tide between her feelings for him and for the Commander. The moon that controlled the orchestrations of it all was her heart.

 

He could sense these warring emotions more often than she probably intended. Some nights the conflict she felt would jolt him awake, as if a cry for help. Cullen would get what he wanted in the end, Solas would make sure of it. It wouldn’t be long before he was forced to abandon her, too. How would she feel when he disappeared from her life, he wondered?


End file.
